A Familiar Face
by Amarain
Summary: RECOMMENDED STORY OF THE MONTH AT HPFF.COM! OCTOBER 2003What do Snape, Lupin, a turncoat Death Eater, jinni, and an odd Egyptian have in common? Past tragedies are coming back to haunt certain members of the Order while the 2nd War heats up near Hogwarts.
1. Prologue

Okay, quick word about my story. It takes place almost directly after Order of the Phoenix. So if you haven't read the fifth book, don't even skim the first chapter of my fan fiction unless you're in the mood for some serious spoilers. Lol, you have been warned.

Gotta add the spoiler ;)

I don't own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Hagrid, or anything else you can think of. It would be really nice if I did, but unfortunately the amazing JK Rowling is a bit more creative than me. Okay, a lot more. Anyway, I only take credit for my original story and characters.

I hope you enjoy my story. I really, really, really appreciate reviews. Tell me what you think of my story, how your day went, or about your pet cat. Anything. I really don't care, just please write something, lol.

Now here goes.............

A Familiar Face

Prologue

_"Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open."_

- Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

It appeared an idyllic place at first. The spacious bedroom was lit by dusty rays of early sunlight, streaming in from windows which looked out upon the azure, calm Mediterranean. The room was plain and sparse. A dark wood desk, dresser, and large bed were the only pieces of furniture. There were no clues in the room to let a viewer know that its main inhabitant was a sixteen-year old wizard. This wizard was tossing and turning in a disturbed sleep.

_'The room was dark, but he could see the woman cradling her child across the floor. She turned quickly at the sound of his approaching steps and terror filled her bright green eyes. She held the baby close and pleaded, "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry! James!!! Jaaaaaames!! Help!!!!"_

_"He's dead and you know it. Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now...." A harsh voice demanded. _

_"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead ....."_

_The woman screamed as he neared her, pulling a wand out of his robe. He raised it high ....._

_"Not Harry too! Not Harry! Please ..... have mercy ..... have mercy ..... Noooo .....!"_

_"AVADA  KEDAVRA!" The woman screamed as high, cold laughter filled the room. His laughter.'_

The dark haired boy woke up with a gasp. His tired light brown eyes quickly swept the room and he relaxed. Just a dream, but one of the worst ones. His clothes were soaked with sweat. He sighed. The murderous nightmares had started nearly a year ago, but had been mercifully rare until this summer. Now, they only grew darker and more disturbing. But this nightmare had been different. Last night, he had _felt_ like the killer.

He got out of bed and paced the cold stone floor. He pushed his black hair out of his eyes, thinking. He had no idea where these dreams were coming from. Who had it been in last night's? He couldn't seem to remember the name now, but he knew it was familiar. He strode out the door that led to the marble balcony. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the salty Mediterranean air to clear his mind. He opened his eyes and looked longingly at the broom leaning against the wall. This morning would have been perfect for a nice ride over the cool blue waves. He leaned against the railing and stared down at the churning sea below.

"Cesare! Get down here, _vagabondo_!"

He jumped at his uncle's booming voice and then rolled his eyes before returning inside. He grabbed his wand from the top of the antique dresser and stuck it in his back pocket. While doing that, he angrily eyed the acceptance letter from Hogwarts which also lay haphazardly on the dresser, as if someone had thrown it there.

Cesare groaned inwardly and picked it up, his eyes casting over the loopy handwriting. He reread it, hoping to catch a word or phrase that denied his fears.

_Dear Signore Cesare al Jalil_

_I am writing to inform you that you have been accepted at __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry as the sixth year representative in our new exchange program. I am pleased that you will be participating in this program. In these troubled times, building and maintaining international bonds of unity and friendship will help us overcome our differences to secure a brighter future. I have spoken with your former headmaster Khaled Rakha at Anksenum and he wishes you the best of luck. I look forward to meeting you myself._

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Headmaster_

_Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc.,Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards_

Cesare scoffed at the letter. No wonder Rahka wished him the best of luck. He was probably thrilled to be free of him. Cesare didn't have a great reputation at Anksenum. Dating half the girls and beating up a good number of the boys tended to make you a bit or a problem in the eyes of the headmaster. He didn't have much hope for Hogwarts either. His uncle had forced him to apply for the transfer. Cesare still couldn't figure out why. His uncle hated Dumbledore and wasn't too fond of Britain. Why he wanted his nephew to spend the next two years at some British school was a complete mystery.

_Maybe __he wants me to get killed, Cesare thought. The news out of London was terrifying the entire wizarding world. With Voldemort's return, many wizards and witches were fleeing Great Britain, which seemed to be Voldemort's focus. Cesare felt chills up his spine at the thought. He had been kept in the dark when it came to news of the rest of the magical world this summer by his uncle. His uncle spoke rarely about the subject and when he did, he only praised Voldemort's return._

"CESARE!"

"COMING!" He yelled and dropped the letter. He pulled open the heavy wooden door and hurried downstairs. His uncle was not a person to cross.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Vincenzo Rivera stared at his nephew's unkempt, tired face. "Is this how you plan to embarrass your name at Hogwarts? By being a lazy, filthy, little bum?" he asked coolly. "You better not look like that when you got to the Malfoy's."

Cesare simply ignored him and sat down to a breakfast prepared by one of the many house elves. His uncle left the room a few minutes later. Cesare finished and got up to leave. As he turned, he noticed a crumpled newspaper on top of the trash bin. After a quick glance over his shoulder towards the direction his uncle had gone, he snatched it up. It was Il Mago Quotidianamente. (The Wizard Daily) He scanned the front page quickly, searching for news about Voldemort. He did not have to look for very long. A huge headline screamed, "Massacre At Azkaban!!"

Cesare's eyes widened as he pulled the paper closer to his face and read on.

_News came early this morning of another mass jail break of He-Who-Must-Not- Be-Named 's supporters at Azkaban, the island prison fortress located in __Britain__. A similar escape occurred early this spring, but this break-out accompanied the massacre of twenty one guards. Details are still fuzzy, but it is believed that the Lord You Know Who was there himself. An estimated ten Death Eaters escaped, most who had been recently incarcerated. Human guards had also recently replaced Azkaban's notorious dementors, whom are now suspected to have switched their allegiance to You Know Who. Italian Minister of Magic Francesco Rimbaldi is warning citizens to avoid travel, especially to __Britain__. Rimbaldi has been decrying the British Ministry's response to Voldemort's uprising, along with many othes in the International Confederation of Wizards. This story will be further reported as soon as new information is learned._

He lowered the paper slowly. So this is what had been going on during the summer? He was just turning the page to search for more news when a cold, angry voice from behind him turned his blood to ice.

"Just what the hell do you think you are doing?" Vicenzo demanded.

Cesare whirled around, the newspaper still clutched in his hand, giving up any chance of playing innocent. "I'm reading the paper. What's wrong with that?" he said in steely voice.

His uncle snatched it from his hand and tore it in half. "I told you not to touch the newspapers this summer!" His face was dark with fury.

"I don't remember hearing you tell me that," Cesare lied, but his uncle wasn't paying attention. Instead he was looking at the ruined paper, with growing fear etched in his face. 

"Were you reading this?" he asked slowly, as if he was trying to keep his voice controlled. He thrust out the remains of the front page at his nephew and with increasing dread, Cesare recognized the article about the jail break.

"No," he said quickly.

The blow came out of nowhere; his uncle backhanded him across the face before he even finished his response.

"Liar," he hissed. "You're a nasty, little liar. You were reading this article about the Dark Lord."

Cesare didn't respond, only stared out his uncle through eyes narrowed by cold hatred.

"You continue to wear my patience thin, boy. Get out of my sight. Now!"

Cesare didn't need to hear anything else. He walked past his uncle, keeping his head high and refusing to look at him. His cheek stung furiously where he had been hit, but the pain was small when compared to the curiosity gnawing inside him. Why did Vincenzo forbid him any information about what was going on in the wizarding world recently? Especially that concerning Voldemort....... what was he trying to hide?


	2. Back to Grimmauld Place

Harry Potter and company all belong to JK Rowling.

Chapter One

Back to Grimmauld Place

_Perhaps the reason he wanted to be alone was because he had felt isolated from everybody since his talk with Dumbledore. An invisible barrier separated him from the rest of the world. He was— he had always been—a marked man. It was just that he had never really understood what that had meant._

- Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

~^-*-^-*-^-*-^-*-^-*-^-*-^-*-^-*-^-*-^-*-^-*-^-*-^-*-^-*-^-*-^~__

In an ordinary house, on an ordinary street, in an ordinary town; an extraordinary boy was staring blanking at his ceiling, wishing for time to speed up, yet dreading the expected event. 

Harry Potter pushed his unruly black hair from his face and looked towards the window from where he was lying on his bed, checking for what seemed to be the hundredth time, that the window was wide open and that there were no owls flying outside.

He sighed and sat up. Today was July 30th, the day before his birthday AND the day he was expecting his O.W.L.S. results. He tapped his fingers nervously. Everything depended on this. If he ever wanted to be an Auror, he needed to do extremely well on these tests. Although maybe he shouldn't even worry about that. After all, apparently there was a fifty-fifty chance he'd be too dead to worry about a career in the future.

He quickly pushed that thought from his mind. _I refuse to think about the prophecy right now, he told himself. He didn't want to be reminded of anything that had happened last spring._

His thoughts were suddenly and mercifully interrupted by the graceful landing of a regal looking great horned owl, bearing an enormous thick envelope with the Hogwarts crest. The bird dropped the envelope on his lap. It glared at him before slowly raising its majestic golden wings to take off. 

Harry ripped open the envelope with shaking hands. Eight smaller envelopes and a two letters spilled out. The name of each one of his classes was written in elegant gold scrawl on the jet black envelopes. He grabbed the one that labeled Defense against the Dark Arts. 

Inside was a small certificate with the Hogwarts crest and the O.W.L.S. test trademark.

In elegant writing, it read:

_The esteemed student Harry Potter has received an Ordinary Wizarding Level of Outstanding in the subject of Defense Against the Dark Arts._

_Signed_

_Professor Tofty_

_Test Examiner_

A rare smile broke across Harry's face and he imagined his fellow members of Dumbledore's Army receiving the same score.

He picked up the next envelope labeled Charms and tore into it. Another Outstanding. Harry started to feel more optimistic and excited. He received another Outstanding in Care of Magical Creatures and then opened his Divinations envelope. There was no certificate inside. Just a small notice on yellow parchment informing him that he failed with a "P" Poor. 

Harry didn't even care. Failing this exam hadn't mattered to him at all. He had even expected it. He tossed the notice aside and picked up the next few.

He earned an Acceptable in both Herbology and Astronomy. He merely shook his head at the other P in History of Magic. Apparently passing out during the examination hadn't done much for his score. 

Only the envelopes marked Transfigurations and Potions were left. Harry stared at the two envelopes, replaying his conversations with Professor McGonagall about his desire to become an Auror. He remembered Umbridge's laugh of derision. _'This boy will never become an Auror!'_

_Forget he_r! He told himself. _Just open the envelope_. He ripped open his Transfigurations scores and pulled out the certificate.

_The esteemed student Harry Potter has received an Ordinary Wizarding Level of Exceeded Expectations in the subject of Transfigurations._

He sighed a huge sigh of relief. The grade would be enough to get him into McGonagall's N.E.W.T. class.

The Potions envelope stood out, unopened next to the remains of the other envelopes he had hastily torn into. He picked it up, dreading and hoping at the same time.

_'Poisons and antidotes are essential study for Aurors. And I must tell you that Professor Snape absolutely refuses to take students who get anything other than "Outstanding" in their O.W.L.S....'_

With McGonagall's voice in his head, he slowly opened the envelope and pulled out what was inside. He closed his eyes and whispered, "Please, please, let me pass...." He opened his eyes.

_The esteemed student Harry Potter has received an Ordinary Wizarding Level of Exceeded Expectations in the subject of Potions._

Harry blinked. He couldn't be seeing that grade. He would never score that high. It couldn't be, but........

"Oh thank you," he said out loud to no one in particular. The grade wouldn't get him into Snape's class, but he hadn't really expected that. Maybe he could substitute that class for something else that would make him a good candidate for Auror training......

But he refused to let his spirits fall. He had done it. He had earned seven O.W.L.S. Seven! He had only needed five for Auror training.

He felt about ready to burst with pride and jumped off his bed. He grabbed some parchment from his desk and scrambled for a quill. _I've got to tell Hermione, she helped me and she'll be so happy. Oh and Sirius. I have to write him. He'll be so proud......._

A cold feeling suddenly crashed over Harry, taking away his momentary happiness. He dropped the parchment.

Sirius would never know. Harry would never get to tell him because Sirius was dead. Gone forever, just like his parents.

Harry slowly exhaled, making a sound similar to the hiss of balloon deflating. What did stupid O.W.L.S. grades mean when they were compared to the fact that his godfather was dead?

The now familiar knot of grief formed in his stomach, making him feel physically ill. He sat back down on his bed and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. Sirius would have been proud. He could practically imagine his energetic response back, telling him how well he did, how he had his father's magical ability......

The corner of his eye began to sting and he wiped his face angrily. No, he wouldn't sit here and cry like a baby. He refused to cry.

He picked up the other two letters that had come with his package and tried to ignore the sick, empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. The first letter had the N.E.W.T. courses he was eligible for next year.

_Dear Mr. Harry Potter,_

_            The following is a list of N.E.W.T. classes that you have the prerequisites to _

_attend__. While a minimum of four classes are required, students are encouraged to take more. Simply tap your wand against the class name and you shall be registered for it. Students should note that this is a magical agreement and they may be held to it for the first few months of school._

Harry's eyes almost went blurry at the sight of so many "Advanced's" and he felt slightly unsure.

_Advanced Transfigurations and Introduction to Human Transformation_

_Advanced Herbology and Careers in Magical Plants_

_Advanced Defense against the Dark Arts_

_Advanced Charms_

_Advanced Care for Magical Creatures_

_Advanced Astronomy and Introduction to Planetary Charting_

_Introduction to Practical Dueling_

_Advanced Potions_

Advanced WHAT? No way. Harry reread the list. There it was. Advanced Potions. How had he gotten into THAT? Snape would never take him, besides he hadn't even gotten the grade he needed to continue in that class.

_So what had happened?_ Harry wondered. He eyed his wand lying on his desk. Should he even bother to tap it? Did he WANT to take that class? He wasn't sure he had any chance of passing. Besides, he had been looking forward to being Snape-free.

But still, the dream of being an Auror loomed over him. He needed that class if he wanted to join the "best of the best." And he could not see himself doing anything different with his life.

He crossed the small room and went to his desk. He grabbed his wand from among the mess of parchment, ink, books, and homework that littered its dusty wooden surface.

He picked up the letter and without another thought tapped Potions. Then he selected Advanced Transfigurations, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures, and Defense against the Dark Arts.

He looked thoughtfully at Practical Dueling. He had never heard of that class; it must be new. A memory of the infamous dueling club run by Lockhart came into his mind and he shuddered it away. Dueling would be a useful skill, actually he realized, it would be pretty essential since he was now signed up for a winner-really-takes-all future duel with Voldemort, he though sarcastically.

He tapped his wand against the class name and put the letter down. He looked at the final piece of parchment. It was blank. He started to turn it over, confused, but was stopped when the paper suddenly shone like gold, as if illuminated by fire. Words started scrolling down the page in elegant green script.

Harry looked closer and realized it was his new book list. He scanned it briefly, and then tossed it on the desk. He had more mail to wait for. The Daily Prophet should have been here hours ago. He eyed yesterday's paper angrily. He wanted to read more about yesterday's jailbreak at Azkaban. Cold fury descended over his entire body at the thought.

Although he ought to have known Voldemort would try to free his followers, Harry was still extremely upset. He had been asked to testify at the future trial of the imprisoned Death Eaters and relished the thought of them at Azkaban. No suffering would be enough for those responsible for Sirius's death- no, not his death, his murder.

Harry sighed. No matter how much he told himself he wasn't going to think about it, thoughts of Sirius continued to creep into his mind all the time. 

It was the absence that was most noticeable and hurtful. Sirius usually constantly wrote him during the school year and summer. Harry would give anything for one last letter, just to say goodbye.

"STOP IT," he said out loud, disgusted with himself. Sirius would have wanted him to be braver. 

Harry got up again and decided to leave the house for a little while. It would give him something to do at least, instead of sitting around and moping.

He pulled open his door and headed downstairs. He tried to leave quietly, hoping to ignore the Dursley's. He needn't worried. His aunt and uncle were huddled together near the kitchen window, staring out and whispering. Harry caught snatches of their conversation.

"Ooooo.......having problems with that son of theirs again........look at that girlfriend of his....."

Harry rolled his eyes as he left the house. Nothing pleased the Dursley's more than gossiping about their neighbors. Of course, they STILL had the audacity to take offence when their household was the subject of neighborhood ridicule.

He hopped the low garden wall and swore under his breath as he trampled some dying begonias. Aunt Petunia would be out for blood now.

Harry jammed his hands in his pockets and started down the street

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

July 31st dawned, bright and sunny. Harry was awakened by heavy knocking on the door downstairs.

A loud crash and an angry bellow from the living room stopped any thought about his birthday. Harry stood up quickly, pulling out his wand as he did.

"WHA- WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE DOING HERE?" 

Harry recognized Uncle Vernon's livid voice and his curiosity piqued. He peered down the stair railing and his bright green eyes widened with surprise. He quickly hurried downstairs.

"Oh, hullo there, Harry. We have a bit of birthday surprise for you," Lupin said, his eyes twinkling. Behind him stood Mad-Eye, Tonks, and Kingsley.

Harry gaped, "Wha- what are you all doing here?" he asked surprised, practically repeating his uncle's enraged question.

Lupin took a moment to free himself from Uncle Vernon's heavy grip on his cloak. His uncle's face was now turning a gruesome combination of purple and red, and his mouth was opening and closing like a fish; apparently he was too enraged to speak. Aunt Petunia and Dudley flanked him, wearing identical looks of fear and loathing.

"Well, we're here to pick you up a bit early. Sorry we couldn't give you an exact date, but we...."

"Were afraid the mail might be intercepted, I know," Harry finished his sentence. Lupin nodded apologetically. Harry noticed his former Professor looked worse than usual. There was a bit more gray in his light brown hair and dark shadows behind his eyes. Although Harry knew Lupin would be mourning Sirius as well, it was a bit disconcerting to see the same echo of loss in Lupin's face.

"I just have to get my stuff together. It'll take a minute," Harry stammered, trying not to think of the huge mess in his room.

Moody banged his heavy walking stick against the floor and the Dursley's jumped. "Well, don't take all day. We don't have much time," he warned, peering out the window, as if expecting Death Eaters to swarm Privet Drive any minute. 

"Right then," Harry said and turned to jog back upstairs.

"Wait, Harry. I'll help you," Lupin offered and followed him.

Harry pushed open the door of his room and felt slightly embarrassed at the state of his room. It was fair to say it resembled the result of several natural disasters.

"Er, this just might take a few minutes."

Lupin smiled slightly. "I can do it a bit faster." He waved his wand and Harry's trunk popped open. Clothes and books raced into the open trunk. The loose floorboards even flew up and released their stash. Then the trunk slammed shut with a resounding THUD.

Harry meanwhile was rummaging in his closet for his Firebolt. He found it and ran a hand down the gleaming wooden handle. Another reminder of Sirius. Harry shook his head and pulled the broom out. Then he gathered up Hedwig's cage and supplies. 

Lupin was watching him and seemed like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure if he should. "So. Harry, uh, how are you?" he asked.

"I'm just great," Harry answered, trying to keep most of the sarcasm out of his voice. He knew Lupin meant well. His former professor had written to him a few times as well this summer, checking up on him.

"I'm sorry we couldn't come get you earlier, Dumbledore was waiting for....."

"It's fine," Harry cut him off. "I'm ready. So are we going to......," Harry remembered he was still supposed to be discreet," the same place as last time?"

Lupin nodded, understanding his need for privacy, and they left his room.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The flight was long and uneventful, unless boredom counted as an event. Harry felt his heart jump when they reached the peeling, black door of 12 Grimmauld Place and steeled himself for the next few hours of sympathetic gazes and questions about his well-being.

Sure enough, as soon as he lifted the silver serpentine knocker, he was enveloped in a tight hug from Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry, dear! Oh, it's so wonderful to see you! Happy Birthday!" She led him down the long hallway, which Harry noticed seemed much cleaner than last year. The row of stuffed elf heads and the umbrella made from a troll leg were gone. He had to struggle to keep his footing. It felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Sirius's memory pratically echoed off the wall here. Mrs. Weasley didn't notice his distress and pushed open the door to the spacious stone kitchen and beamed at him. "Go on in."

Harry stepped through the door warily and was greeted by the smiling faces of nearly a dozen people.

"Happy Birthday!" Harry blinked in surprise at the sight of all the people gathered in the room. The entire Weasley family (with the notable exception of Percy) and Hermione were there, as well as Lupin, Moody, and Tonks, who filed into the room after Harry. He spotted a large chocolate cake on the table, with "Happy Birthday, Harry" written on it in white icing.

He felt a strange feeling in his throat. He hadn't been expecting anything like this at all. He smiled slightly when he realized this was the first time he had celebrated his birthday with other people. He seriously doubted the Dursley's even knew what day he was born.

"Wow, thanks," he muttered as Mrs. Weasley started cutting the cake and handing out slices. They all stuffed their faces and sipped butterbeer. Tonks, Moody, and Kingsley excused themselves after about an hour and left.

Harry yawned, feeling his exhaustion from the flight starting to catch up with him. He was pretty sure not only had the trip tired him out. Everyone asking how he was and trying to look super cheery didn't help. His sleepiness didn't escape Mrs. Weasley's watchful eye however, and she started clearing the table.

"Well, it's getting late. You lot best be getting to bed," she said, eyeing them fiercely to let them know this wasn't a mere suggestion. "Harry's had a long trip."

"Nah, I'm fine," Harry said, but even he heard the weary tone in his voice.

Mr. Weasley and Lupin stood up as well. Lupin disappeared for a few minutes, then came back dressed in torn jeans and a shabby leather jacket.

Harry eyed him. "Where are you going?"

Lupin looked uncomfortable. "Ah, just an errand for Dumbledore," he said nonchalantly. He pulled a small package and held it out awkwardly to Harry. "Er, here. For your birthday," he added hastily. Harry looked at him curiously, but Lupin didn't meet his eyes, instead he was looking at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. "I'll be going now."

"Good luck," Mr. Weasley said darkly and Mrs. Weasley's eyes crinkled slightly in worry. 

"I'll be seeing you, Harry," Lupin added and then turned to leave. Harry turned over the package in his hands, wondering what it was. Everyone else had given him their gifts at the table. Perhaps Lupin hadn't wanted him to open it at the table.

Everyone else said their good nights and started upstairs. Hermione followed Ron and Harry into their room. Harry had started opening Hedwig's cage to let her out when Hermione threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. 

Slightly shocked, Harry looked at Hermione. She looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"Er, Hermione, all right?"

She smiled brightly, but eyes still glistened with unshed tears. "I'm just so glad you're finally here. We were all so worried about you. After everything that happened, and then you were stuck with the Dursley's for a month." She bit her lip uncertainly. "I remember you hated being there last summer and not knowing anything. But after......after Sir- after last June, we hated the thought of you being there."

Harry tried to avoid her worried, warm brown eyes. "No, it was fine. The Dursley's weren't as bad as usual.

He tried to ignore the fleeting look that Hermione and Ron exchanged, by messing around in his trunk.

"So, you're doing alright, mate?" Ron asked tentatively.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm great," Harry tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Although he was happy to see his friends, part of him sincerely wanted to be left alone. His world had been destroyed last June. Harry was starting to feel like a different person. He was living a different life. A life which Sirius was no longer a part of, and in which Harry was given a clear purpose. The now familiar feeling of a heavy cloak over his shoulders descended upon him. Dumbledore had been right. Knowing about the prophecy did change everything.

He stole a backward glance at Ron and Hermione. He hadn't told them about it; he wasn't sure if he wanted anyone else to know. He remembered when a tear had slid down Dumbledore's cheek after he told Harry. Harry didn't want his friends' pity, and he didn't want to see their shocked and worried faces.

Eager to change the subject, Harry asked, "So, what's been going on here?"

"Not much. Mum's been making us clean. There are still places in the house we haven't gotten to! Oh, and as usual, she's trying to make sure we don't hear anything that goes on downstairs," Ron scowled.

Hermione was sitting on Ron's bed, stroking Crookshanks, who had darted into the room. "But thanks to the combined eavesdropping of Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, and myself," she said somewhat proudly, "we've been able to pull a few thing together."

Harry took a seat on his musty comforter and drew his knees up and looking at his two friends with an avid expression on his face. "Like what?" he asked anxiously, eager for news about the going-ons of the Order.

"Well, for one thing, Dumbledore's been having a lot of trouble finding a new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher." Ron shrugged.

Harry snorted. "You think we'll ever get someone who lasts more than a year?"

"I don't know, but hopefully they won't be as sadistic as Umbridge," Hermione said darkly. "The position really does seem to be cursed."

"Maybe Dumbledore will make Lupin come back," Harry suggested hopefully. Hermione shook her head.

"I don't think so. He's always leaving to do "his errands" for Dumbledore. I'd say he's pretty busy."

"Oh, another thing!" Ron said excitedly and jumped slightly as if he'd been struck by lightning. "They got a Death Eater to go turn-coat!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked pained with her characteristic annoyance. "We don't know that, Ron. You're exaggerating," she said in a teacherly tone. "They didn't say anything like that. But we think they might, MIGHT," she repeated with a glare at Ron, "......have convinced one of Voldemort's supporters to join them."

"Really? Well, I guess that's always good. I mean, if whoever it is, is being honest," Harry said with a trace of suspicion. He thought fleetingly of Snape.

Ron nodded in agreement, but Hermione frowned. "I'm sure if the Order believes them, then they're reliable."

"We can't hear what goes on when they have meeting, but when they come out into the hall and are preparing to leave, Fred and George's Spy Senses work wonders."

Harry looked confused. "Spy Senses? What happened to Extendable Ears?"

Ron waved his hand dismissively. "C'mon, they were only to first model! Nah, Fred and George added vision to 'em and the audio's a lot better to."

Duly impressed, Harry smiled. Then a thought struck him. "How did your mum take their skiving off school and starting a joke shop in Diagon Alley?" he asked anxiously.

Ron laughed. "Well, she was beyond furious at first, thought they had ruined their lives for sure. But she's been coming around, 'specially since they've been pulling in more money weekly than Dad's monthly salary," he added in a hushed voice. "They bought Ginny a new broom, and got Mum a bunch of new cooking equipment." He snorted. "It was pretty hard for her to be displeased at the sight of all those new cauldrons and recipe books."

"Oh and O.W.L.S.!" Hermione nearly shouted and then covered her mouth in embarrassment. "I'd nearly forgotten! How'd you do, Harry?" she asked, completely uncaring about whether or not this might have been a private issue.

Harry couldn't stop the grin that broke out across his face. "I got seven," he said proudly. Hermione shrieked and gave him another hug. Ron beamed.

"Nice, mate. Seven here too, although I have no idea how I managed to get that many. Fred and George were furious. Said I wasn't allowed to be their brother again."

Harry noticed that Hermione was unsuccessfully trying to hide the fact that she wanted to say something very badly. He decided to let her. "How many did you get, Hermione?"

She smiled broadly, happy to repeat her scores. "I got eleven Outstandings," she said breathlessly, relishing the sentence. 

Harry stared at her awestruck. "Wow.......but.... how...... Hermione, you didn't even take that many classes!"

"Oh, I know that," she said matter-of-factly. "I decided to try my luck on the Muggle Studies exam."

He was still looking at her in disbelief, when a loud yell from downstairs made them all jump.

Mrs. Weasley, probably alerted by Hermione's shrieks, had shouted up the stairs. "I heard something! Why aren't you asleep!? Harry's had a long trip and if I find that you lot are keeping him from getting a good night's rest......!" 

Hermione looked terrified at the sound of Mrs. Weasley's approaching steps on the creaky, wooden stairs. "Quick! Hurry!" They ushered her out of the room and dove under the covers in the nick of time.

In the rush to sneak Hermione upstairs and then to pretend to be asleep, Harry had forgotten all about Lupin's present. The neatly wrapped package had been absentmindedly kicked off the bed by Harry and now lay underneath the cracked, ancient headboard. If he had stuck his head under the bed however, he would have seen a soft gold and violet glow, shimmering underneath the wrapping.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I hope you've been enjoying my story. Please, please review. Thanks!


	3. A Mysterious Rescue

I don't own anything, JK Rowling owns it all and that's why she's richer than the Queen of England. Am I richer than the Queen of England? No, not at all. So please don't sue me, you wouldn't get much.

Chapter Two

A Mysterious Rescue

_"Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side before Lord Voldemort's downfall and turned spy for us at great personal risk. He is now no more a Death Eater than I am."_

-Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

_"What made you think he'd really stopped supporting Voldemort, Professor?"_

_Dumbledore held Harry's gaze for a few seconds, and then said, "That, Harry, is a matter between Professor Snape and myself."_

-Harry and Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Harry woke that morning from a particularly restful sleep, surprisingly undisturbed by nightmares. His cheery mood was quickly interrupted when they all received their start of term notices, along with a homework list.

Ron groaned in horror. "How......how can they do this to us?" he stammered out, his ears growing bright red with fury. "We've less than a month of summer to do this," he said, pointing with disgust to the crumpled parchment.

Hermione wrinkled her brow in worry. "For some of these assignments we may need our new books." She stole a look at Harry's list and her jaw dropped. "You're taking Advanced POTIONS?" she asked shocked.

Harry felt his confidence waver and wondered for the umpteenth time what he was getting himself into. "Er, yeah. I am."

She looked awestruck. "But- but how did you get in? Snape only accepts "O" students, and no offence, but I doubt he'd make an exception for you, Harry."

He shrugged, seriously doubting his decision to take the class with every passing moment. "I have no idea, honestly, Hermione. Although I'm sure Snape will try to fail me out as soon as possible," he added bitterly.

Hermione squared her shoulders defiantly. "Not if I have anything to do with it. You do fine in that class when you concentrate, Harry. And I'll help you, of course," she promised with a sincere expression in her brown eyes. 

Ron was still looking at Harry as if he'd gone mad. He shook his head in disbelief, shocked that his best friend was committing himself to another year in Snape's dungeon.

Mrs. Weasley agreed to take them to Diagon's Alley the following week. In the meantime, they were kept very busy with homework and Mrs. Weasley's new cleaning project. It seemed that all the rooms in the house had been decontaminated, save the attic.

The attic was worse than all the other rooms combined and much larger. The staircase that took them there was even cursed. As soon as one of them reached the fifth step, the staircase disappeared and they found themselves in a dark damp corridor that looked a cave tunnel. Ghostly images of manticores and chimaeras routinely jumped out at any passerby.

Ron was poking around in an old chest the first day they started in the attic when he yelped suddenly and jumped back.

The rest of the Weasley's, Hermione, and Harry curiously stared at him through the dusty air.

"Something stung me!" he yelled. Then the anxious look on his face slowly faded into a goofy smile. He threw his head back and roared with laughter. Mrs. Weasley hurried over to her younger son, concern etched in her plump face. 

She slapped him lightly. "What is wrong with you!?" We have work to do and you acting like........ aaah!" she shrieked and covered her mouth as Ron started slowly rising into the air until he was floating comfortably above them. His head bumped along the decaying wooden beams which supported the ancient ceiling. He still had a stupidly gleeful look on his freckled face.

Mrs. Weasley was now closely inspecting the chest while the rest of them stared at Ron with gaping mouths. "Oh, no!" she cried and sighed. "Billywigs! A whole nest of them!" She quickly slammed the chest shut, but not before a small bizarre, blue insect quickly buzzed out of the way and zoomed towards Ginny's head. She screamed and tucked, while George quickly stunned the odd creature and pocketed it while his mother was watching her youngest son with an exasperated expression.

"Oh well, he's going to be like that for a few hours. Might as well take a break while a look up what to do about a Billywig infestation." She sighed heavily. "They're native to AUSTRALIA, for heaven's sake! I simply don't understand how all these creatures got in this house. Anyways," she eyed them all sternly. "I don't trust the sorts of things in this attic, so you lot aren't to be in here without me." Mrs. Weasley's eyes rested on Fred and George. "EVEN if you're of age."

The twins rolled their eyes at the same time, but knew better than to protest.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next week was dull with homework and housework until the day before they went to Diagon's Alley. It was an early quiet evening and everyone was in the attic as usual, wrapping up that day's work before supper.

They were interrupted by a shout from downstairs, which sounded like it came from the entrance hallway. Mrs. Weasley immediately looked up and worry flashed across her plump lined face. 

"Molly! MOLLY! Quick! We need some help!"

She hurried downstairs and the others followed without a word. 

When they got downstairs, Harry caught a flash of a pale, rumpled Tonks leading a small group into the kitchen. Moody and Mr. Weasley were supporting a figure in torn dark robes. His throat caught when he recognized who they were carrying: a bloody Remus Lupin. 

Harry started down the stairs and into the dingy hallway before anyone could stop him, his heart beating frantically. _No, no, no, he repeated anxiously. Mr. Weasley and Mad-Eye had cleared off the table and were laying Lupin on it._

He burst into the kitchen, breathless. Lupin was clutching his side, which was bleeding freely and a deep gash was visible on his ankle. But he had pulled himself up on his elbows and was trying to explain something to the other members of the Order in between gasps for air.

"We.......we must have been........they were waiting for us.... I think. There were only 'bout ten or so............the others are right behind us." Lupin's wide eyes met Moody's. "But they must know now. They know we have her. Dumbledore must be told."

Mrs. Weasley and Tonks were trying to bandage Lupin's wounds. "Oh, you should REALLY see a Healer, Remus," Mrs. Weasley said pleadingly. "These are quite bad."

The werewolf shook his head with determination written in his light brown eyes. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

Mr. Weasley wiped a smear of blood of his forehead with a grimy hand and leaned against the wall, clearly exhausted. "At least we got her out," he sighed. "And in the nick of time too," he added darkly.

"Will Dumbledore-," but Mrs. Weasley's next question was cut off abruptly by Mad-Eye. His vivid electric blue eye was staring at Harry.

"I don't think Potter should be hearing this quite yet," he said. The others seemed startled to have just suddenly noticed Harry's presence among them in the kitchen.

"Er," started Harry, suddenly feeling like an intruder. "Er, I just wanted to make sure Professor Lupin was okay."

Lupin smiled, although Harry could tell he was straining to do so. "I'm fine. Just a scrape." 

"Okay, then. I'll just be upstairs, I guess," Harry said, slowly backing out of the room, although every part of him wanted to remain where he was. He was filled with curiosity about this "she" person. Who was she and where had then gone to get her?

Harry left the kitchen and jogged upstairs towards the imploring faces of his friends. They all crowded along the railing, jostling each other to get the best view.

"What's going on? Is Lupin okay? What happened to the rest of them?"

Harry started to answer, but George waved at him to stop. "Wait, wait! Someone else is coming in." He grabbed for something in his pockets and Fred copied him. They both pulled out what appeared to be an old, faded black eye patch. It was attached to a suspiciously familiar length of flesh-colored string.

"Have a look, mate," Fred said and pushed the device into Harry's hands. He had a shrewd idea that this was one of the new notorious "Spy Sensors." He put the patch over one of his eyes and stuck the string in his ear. George threw the other ends of the string over the railing.

It was as if he was downstairs, a few feet away from the door. The front door opened and two people quickly stepped inside, and ushered a second pair in. Harry recognized three of the wizards as Kingsley Shacklebolt, Dedalus Diggle, and Mungdungus Fletcher. 

The fourth was a witch, wearing a dark hooded robe. He saw a slender pair of hands lower the hood and glimpsed the back of her shining, thick long black hair. He suddenly felt like his veins had been filled with Ice Mints, and as he squinted to get a better look, the Sensor started spinning, blurring any vision he had.

"Damn! I hate when they do that! Stupid kink in the system. We haven't worked it out yet," said Fred apologetically.

But Harry didn't even take notice of their words. A sick, sinking feeling was filling him and he remembered what Ron and Hermione had told him when he first arrived.

_"Oh, another thing!__ They got a Death Eater to go turn-coat!"_

_"We don't know that, Ron. You're exaggerating. They didn't say anything like that. But we think they may have convinced one of Voldemort's supporters to join them."_

No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be her. They would NEVER, EVER believe her. Lupin would have killed her if he had ever laid eyes on her again, not risk his life to rescue her, Harry thought desperately. 

The others were excitedly discussing what was going on. Like Harry, they came to the same conclusion about the witch.

"Oooo, you think she used to be a Death Eater?" Ginny wondered.

Harry had to get away. He couldn't stand being near all these people. He whirled around and headed for his room. His mind was spinning with possibilities. Then one voice broke through the crowded chaos of his brain.

            _"Bitty baby Potter, did you love him?"_

Cold fury washed over Harry. He couldn't deal with this uncertainty. He couldn't stand the thought of Sirius's killer in his house. The house that seemed so empty and different without him.

He turned around and started to angrily march back downstairs. He bumped into Mrs. Weasley, who held him out at an arm's length. "Now where are you going, dear?"

Harry resisted the urge to struggle at the sight of her kind face. She looked concerned at the wild look in his bright green eyes.

"Harry, dear, are you alright?"

He couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "Is that..... is that........HER?" he burst.

Mrs. Weasley looked confused and was now staring at him like he was suddenly touched in the head. "Is who her?" she asked, slowing drawing out each word as if she was speaking to a five year old.

"_Her_!" Harry was finding it hard to say the name. He suddenly understood while some wizards preferred not to say Voldemort. Saying a name that vile and foul contaminated your mouth.

"Bellatrix. Was that her?" he asked in a calmer tone.

The color drained from Mrs. Weasley's freckled face and she abruptly let go of his arm. "Good heavens, no! Why would you think that?"

He sighed and exhaled slowly, not even realizing he had been holding his breath. "I-I just thought it looked like her," he said, feeling his face flush. He knew the others were probably watching him carefully. 

"Sorry," he said lightly. "My mistake." Harry backed up and hurried to his room.

He sunk onto his bed and stared blankly at the wall. He couldn't believe how he had fallen apart in front of the Weasley's. What was wrong with him, acting mad like that? He heard Mrs. Weasley screaming at the others about eavesdropping could cause.

Harry unconsciously rubbed his forehead and kicked off his sneakers. He lay back on the bed and gazed at the musty green canopy. His mind automatically started replaying that horrible night at the Department of Ministries.

But as the familiar nightmare started, something changed. Sirius was no longer falling through an ancient stone arch. He was laughing and singing Christmas carols in Grimmauld place while hanging hats on the row of dead house elves.

Harry smiled slightly in his sleep at the happy memory, all thoughts of Bellatrix gone for the moment.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mrs. Weasley shook Harry awake early the next morning. He stared at her uncomprehendingly at first, and then groggily remembered the trip to Diagon Alley. He and Ron dressed quickly and hurried downstairs. Several members of the Order were still there, looking exhausted as they sipped coffee. Their conversations immediately stopped when Harry and Ron entered the kitchen.

Hermione and Ginny came in shortly after, followed by the twins who were looking unusually alert and chipper for such an early hour.

"Gotta visit the office," George said, rubbing his hands together conspiratorially. Fred smirked. Harry saw Mrs. Weasley roll her eyes at the toaster.

They finished breakfast and then gathered around the fire in the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was obviously in a hurry. She seemed to want to get them out of the house as quickly as possible. She took a pinch of Floo powder from the mantle and tossed it onto the merrily cracking flames.

Fred and George had already Apparated, gleeful at the jealous looks tossed their way by Ron and Ginny. Harry stepped into the fire and said clearly, "Diagon Alley."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thanks for reading. Please, PLEASE review and let me know what you think.


	4. Diagon Alley

All characters and setting, and other stuff belong to J.K. Rowling

Chapter Three

Diagon Alley

_It was all Voldemort, Harry thought, staring up at the canopy of his bed in the darkness, it all came back to Voldemort.... He was the one who had torn these families apart, who had ruined all their lives...._

- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

"_Merda__! Where is it?" Cesare tipped over a stack of musty schoolbooks on his desk, desperately searching for his wand. It had to be somewhere here; he had just put it down! Ah, there it was. He stuffed it inside his black robes and went downstairs._

His uncle was waiting near the enormous marble fireplace in the high-ceiling great hall. The few dusty rays of light that had snuck past the heavy, drawn curtains illuminated his uncle's irritated, dark face. "You are already late, hurry up!"

"They can wait a few minutes," Cesare answered sarcastically in Italian as he approached him. 

"English!" Vincenzo reprimanded him. "Damn it, you are supposed to be practicing!"

"My English is fine," he said, rolling his eyes. Vincenzo had suddenly developed a fear of Cesare sounding like an "illiterate immigrant" at Hogwarts and embarrassing the family name. Cesare found that highly offensive, considering he could read and write in over six languages. 

"Just tell me where to meet them and I'll be gone," he snapped, struggling to keep his annoyance at his uncle hidden. The best way to deal with Vincenzo was to ignore his taunts.

Vincenzo hide his smile as he watched Cesare._ That's it boy, get angry. You could be so powerful in your anger._ "Where Knockturn alley branches off from Diagon. Don't get lost. The Malfoy's don't like waiting.

Cesare nodded; he had never been to England or Diagon Alley before and couldn't really make sense of those directions, but he wasn't about to ask for more help. Without another word, he swept past his uncle and casually tossed Floo powder from the mantel into the fireplace. Green, glittering flames shot up and he stepped into the fire, without ducking. The enormous fireplace had been built specifically for this purpose and could have easily held ten people.  In a clear, even voice he said, "Knockturn Alley."

His uncle's face and the spacious dim corridor disappeared in a swirling sea of dancing flames and snatches of other rooms.

A few minutes after he had left, another head appeared in the flames and spoke to Vincenzo in a menacing tone, "That boy has much anger. It will be easy to mold him into something very dangerous." The voice laughed coldly. "I can hardly wait."

"Soon enough, my lord. Your plans have been well laid and will soon reap results. Your bargain with this family will finally be fulfilled," Vincenzo said with a small, proud smile.

"Good. Your stepsister was much too weak to be effective. However, Cesare's placement at Hogwarts is perfect," the voice remarked.

"Agreed, my lord. "He will be able to serve you well there."

"Excellent. I will tell you when we begin."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cesare landed with a hard thud on the stone hearth of a dusty fireplace. He stared out at the small, dark shop he was in and stepped out of the fireplace, rubbing his elbow where he'd hit it. The walls were adorned with ancient bookshelves, coffins, and what looked like some kind of torture mechanism. He almost walked into a glass case containing a shriveled mummy's hand. He cursed under his breath.

"Hey! You there! Watch it! This isn't a toy shop, little boy," a voice said insultingly. Startled, Cesare looked up at the shabby, gray-bearded man at the long, wooden counter. 

"It's not a bus stop either. Buy something, not that you could afford it," he scoffed, "or leave."

Cesare stared him down coolly and the clerk felt somewhat unsettled. _That kid has a wild look in his eyes. Without a word, Cesare calmly strode out and "accidentally" knocked over a towering stack of books, which crashed to the clerk's feet. "Oops, guess it really isn't a toy store," he smirked._

 He continued down the alley until he saw the Malfoy's. Draco had white blond hair and a nasty disposition. His father was even worse, but surprisingly, Lucius wasn't there. In his place stood his wife, Narcissa. Cesare thought that was odd, as he greeted them solemnly. Narcissa told them, "I have to do some business here. Draco will show you where to find your school supplies." And with that she excused herself and left them. 

The silence was slightly awkward. Cesare had never particularly liked Draco. However, as they purchased their supplies and made their way down the crowded street, Draco easily filled the conversation gap by telling him about himself, his friends, what was wrong with Hogwarts, and how much he was going to like Slytherin.

"I mean, that's what house you'll be in right? With your family, that's where you belong."

"I guess so," Cesare answered. He knew his uncle would probably beat him if he was placed in any place else_. Can't go about embarrassing the family name, now can I? He thought sarcastically. "So where is your father?" he asked, finally voicing his wonder._

Draco suddenly stopped cold and whirled around. "WHAT?" he asked in disbelief.

Cesare looked at him oddly. Why was Draco reacting like that? "Your father. I thought he would be here."

Draco narrowed his eyes and surveyed the Italian suspiciously. "You mean, you don't _know?"_

"Know what?"

"My father was arrested," he answered with a funny, closed-off tone in his voice, unlike his usual boastful drawl.

"He was _what?" Cesare asked, shocked._

"He was arrested by our Ministry for supporting You-Know-Who," Malfoy said. "Although they couldn't hold him very long. He got away this week," the blonde boy added with a trace of pride in his voice.

"The jail break? Your father was involved?"

"Of course. You-Know-Who wouldn't leave his most loyal supporters in prison." Draco lowered his voice. "Our families have been trying to assist them. In these times, our kind have to protect our own." He shuddered. "I just hope the Mudbloods are the first to go. Contaminating us, they are."

An odd feeling of disgust welled up in Cesare's chest at Draco's smug words. He had grown up hearing his uncle say similar things, often directed at Cesare about his father. Vincenzo was always muttering about pure, _wizard_ blood and shooting dark glances at his nephew. Since Cesare knew virtually nothing about his father, he had no idea if he had been a born to a wizarding family or not.

Ignoring the anger building up inside him, he simply muttered to Malfoy. "Let's go. You don't want people to hear you," he said darkly.

But Malfoy was ignoring him and stayed where he was on the cobbled street. There was a look of pure hatred in his cold gray eyes. He was staring at a group of people in front of a small, cozy looking ice cream shop.

"Look who's here," he muttered maliciously. "That scum, Jalil, is the reason my father was arrested."

Cesare looked confused at the group of teenagers seated at the table Malfoy was glaring at. Then, with a start, he recognized one of them.

"Do you mean to say Harry Potter is the reason your father was put in Azkaban?"

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"This day just took a turn for the worse," groaned Harry to Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. They had taken a break from shopping for their school supplies to buy some ice cream. It was boiling out and Ron was suggesting experimenting with putting ice cream on his head to cool down in the sweltering heat. The day had been going fine until Draco Malfoy started to approach them with a strange boy their age they had never seen. Ron complained loudly. "It's summer! Don't we see enough of that arsehole in school?"

"Who's that with him, he's pretty cute," Ginny laughed.

"Probably his new backup goon," suggested Hermione. However she took a good look at the stranger. He had a lean muscular build and black hair that fell across his eyes. His eyes were a startlingly light brown color that stood out against his bronzed olive complexion. _Ginny does have a point,_ she couldn't stop herself from thinking before mentally admonishing herself. Ron looked slightly alarmed by Ginny's words. Harry however had a troubled look in his eyes, like he was trying to remember someone. _Why does he look so familiar? I could have sworn I've seen that face before. _ "Is it just me or does he look kinda…familiar?"

But Harry didn't get an answer before Malfoy was standing over him with a smug expression on his face. "I told you something stank," he said, his voice filled with disgust and contempt. "Unfortunately this collection of the poor and Mudblood also go to out school. Luckily in Slytherin we don't accept such trash."

Harry met Malfoy's contemptuous gaze with his own. A nasty smile tweaked at the corners of his lips. "How's Daddy, Draco?" he asked in voice full of mock concern.

Draco's eyes flashed and his fists balled up. "I don't know, Potter. Better off than your parents though, I suppose."

Harry started to jump up and Malfoy reached for his wand. At the same instant, Ron put a hand on his friend's arm to stop him and Cesare grabbed Malfoy's wrist in a steel grip to prevent him from pulling out his wand. "We're done here," he hissed into Draco's ear. 

The startled young wizard mumbled something, and then stalked away. Cesare followed him without another glance at Harry and his friends. The group burst out laughing. 

"Did you see his face? I guess Malfoy is the one taking orders now."

Harry glanced at the back of the retreating boy. _How do I know you? _ They continued to eat and talk about what had happened last night at Grimmauld Place. Harry wasn't the only one who thought that Mrs. Weasley had been trying to rush them out of the house this morning.

Ron had suggested that the Order was probably having another big meeting and didn't want them around. He looked irritated at the thought of this. They all were annoyed at being excluded. After all, they had been the ones who had fought several Death Eaters only a few months before.

Ginny checked her watch and almost choked on her chocolate raspberry sundae. "We were supposed to meet Fred and George at their shop ten minute ago! They're gonna be annoyed if we don't go. The joke shop is closing soon and they really wanted Harry to check it out" They grabbed their purchases and hurried off towards Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cesare left a sulking Malfoy in Madam Malkin's and decided to get an owl before he left for home. He didn't suppose he really needed one, considering he had nobody to write to when he was at Hogwarts. Still he supposed it might be nice to know SOMEONE, even if they weren't human, before he was stuck in a foreign country for nine months.

He found his way to the owl emporium, and observed Diagon Alley and its shoppers carefully as they passed by. If this was to be his country for the next several months, he wanted to know more about its residents. Already he felt lost and confused.

 Cesare walked into the store and headed towards the aisles full of screeching cages and started studying the different owls. He settled on a friendly, chocolate brown one that chirped happily when he talked to her. He took the cage and grabbed some supplies, then walked up to the counters. He handed the clerk four gold galleons. The clerk took the money then met his eyes. He let out a cry of surprise that made Cesare take a step back.

"I don't believe it! It can't be! Cesare?!" he asked excitedly.

"Um .…. uh ..…yeah. Do I know you?" Cesare asked, confused that the man knew his name and had used it so informally.

"You don't remember? Well, I guess you were too young. Your father would always bring you in here to look at the owls, when your mum was working. You always loved animals. Now you're all grown-up.

Cesare's mouth was hanging open as he stared through widened eyes at the balding man. He could scarcely believe his ears. This man had known his parents. What were the chances.....?

"My mum worked here?" he asked eagerly. He had absolutely no idea that his parents had even lived here, let alone worked in Diagon Alley.

"Of course, didn't you know that?" And without waiting for a response, the man's hand flew to his mouth and his light blue eyes widened dramatically. "OH! That reminds me!" He turned around and began excitedly rummaging and ruffling though messy wooden drawers in the old, decrepit cabinets behind the counter.

"Nearly forgotten 'bout this....... 'course, it's BEEN nearly sixteen years...... but nevertheless."

As Cesare curiously watched him nearly demolish the cabinets, the man tore out a bottom drawer. Cradling, the drawer in the crook of his arms, he snatched a small, dusty box from beneath a sheave of papers, and then spun back around to face Cesare.

"Aha! Here it is." He opened the box and slowly withdrew a delicate gold chain. A small flat, rectangular pendant dangled from it. He handed the fragile necklace to Cesare, who took it wordlessly. "You mum gave that to a jeweler friend of mine to fix the clasp, shortly before her death," he added in a low murmur.

Cesare's light brown eyes looked wondrously over the necklace, his fingers caressed the engraved figures.

"Forgot what it was. Camilla told me once. Buncha funny pictures on it...... meant something.........," the old man droned on and tapped his forehead as if that would clear the cobwebs of times.

"They're Egyptian hieroglyphics," the young wizard said softly. "For 'Kalila.'" He felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He recognized that as his mother's nickname at school. One of her old schoolmates was the History Professor. When Cesare was in his second year, she had told him that his mother's Egyptian friends had given her the Arabic name of Kalila, or 'dearly loved.' It was their joke version of his mum's Italian name, Camilla. He wondered briefly if one of those friends had given her the name pendent. 

"Oh yeah, that's it. I think your dad called her that sometimes. I meant to give this back to him after her death, but he never came around again. And then after everything happened," the old man shuddered and Cesare's gaze was broken and he looked up at the man, alert at what he had heard.

The balding clerk continued, not noticing the black-haired boy's rapt attention to his words.  "Damn shame about your father though. Who ever knew he had it in him to …. Well, I guess you never really know how dark a person can be inside." he shrugged. "I don't know. After your mother's death and your uncle gaining custody of you ......Of course your uncle was NATURALLY the more responsible choice over your father. No question about that. But your father was never the same. Something in him snapped."

"You knew my father as well?" Cesare asked anxiously and dropped the necklace back into the box. His uncle hated his father and subject was forbidden at home. Cesare had gotten severe beatings for even mentioning him. "I don't even know his name."

"No kiddin?" asked the clerk, who looked thrilled to know this bit of juicy gossip. "Well I guess they were trying to protect you. Besides, your old man isn't exactly doing too well for himself lately. But his name is ..…" the clerk was interrupted by the loud boom of the door. Narcissa and Draco angrily strolled in. They had heard the last part of the conversation. 

"We're leaving. Now," she snapped, pushing the stunned young wizard out the door, barely giving him a chance to grab Mari's cage, and shooting the clerk a nasty glare. Outside she thrust Floo powder into Cesare's hand.

"Also here is your ticket for the Hogwarts Express. All the information is on it. You can use that fireplace to get back," she pointed. "And make sure you....." she was suddenly cut off the old clerk who had rushed out of the store. 

"Young man! Wait, you forgot your owl's treats," he said and hurried towards him.

Cesare checked his bag. "What? No, I didn't......"

The clerk had caught up to him and gave him a meaningful look. "Yes. Yes, you did," he said forcefully and shoved the small box containing his mother's necklace into his hands.

Cesare's met the clerk's gaze, and he carefully slipped the box into his pocket, out of sight from Narcissa's cold watchful eyes.

"Thank you," he stammered out.

"Take care of yerself, kid," the old man said quietly. "Your mum was a good, decent person. I'd hate to see you in the wrong company," he added in an even softer voice, with a quick glance over his shoulder at the Malfoy's.

Narcissa looked suspicious and quickly cut in between the two. "You should be going," she ordered and gave him a demanding nudge towards the fireplaces.

Cesare was suddenly filled with questions, as he tossed the Floo powder onto the orange, glittering flames. He had always thought his father was dead, but the clerk had spoken as if he was still alive. But the only thing Vincenzo would ever tell Cesare about his father was that the man was long dead. _Is my father still alive? Who is he? And why was VINCENZO, of all people, given custody of him if his father was still alive? All these thoughts overwhelmed him. And he knew he would get no help from his uncle when he arrived home. _

A house elf was waiting for him when he came out of the fireplace. She quickly started to usher him up the stone staircase to his room, with nervous glances behind her. 

The Jalil home was a six hundred year old villa, made mostly of shining marble and stone. It stood high on a cliff above the sea. Cesare always thought it was strange how such a beautiful looking building could hold such horrors. However, his room was in the tallest tower, thankfully far away from the dungeons, where his uncle usually was.

"Hurry! Be quicks! Your uncle is having them bads peoples over tonight in the dungeon!" With a gasp, she covered her mouth in shame, slammed his door shut, and ran out of sight. He knew what that meant. Like the Malfoy's, his uncle was deeply into the Dark Arts and an ardent supporter of Lord Voldemort. Since his reported return, Vincenzo often had midnight gatherings at his home. Cesare assumed they were all Death Eaters. He knew his uncle was one anyway. Who knew what they did? Yet for some reason, the knowledge that dozens of Voldemort's supporters might be down the hall didn't frighten him. As much as it did sicken him, he knew what Malfoy said was true. His family belonged with those people and therefore Cesare didn't fear them.

 Yet tonight, he wondered, for probably the millionth time, what happened down there. He had often heard terrified screams from deep inside the house. Cesare dropped his supplies at the foot of his bed and put his train ticket and wand on his dresser. He pulled the box from his pocket and took out his mother's necklace.

This was all that he had of his parent's. He reread the ancient hieroglyphics, a skill he had learned at the Anksenum wizarding school, the same school his mother had attended. Kalila. Dearly loved. She had been. The staff at Anksenum had loved her, the kind, beautiful Egyptian-Italian witch from an unkind family. The headmaster, Professor Rakha once gave him a picture of her, the only one Cesare had. It showed a pretty girl with olive skin, big dark eyes, and long curly black hair.

He sighed. He knew he had been a huge disappointment to Rakha and the rest of the teachers. They found it hard to believe that one of their favorites students could have such a troublesome son.

But his thoughts quickly drifted back to his father and he put the necklace on his desk. Then he sat on his bed, facing yet another sleepless night, but now was filled with a question. _Who IS my father? _As he stared at the cracked stone floor, he heard a pained scream from the dungeons. He shivered. 'What the hell could be so wrong with his father that his uncle was considered a better guardian?'

He lay down, and stared out the open window from his bed, gazing at the inky blackness littered by bright stars. The Mediterranean lapped at the cliffs below. He closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to overcome him before he heard it again. 

"NO! PLEASE! NO! OH, NO! NOOOOOOOOOO!" Then the screaming stopped abruptly.

Cesare curled up and clamped his hands over his ears, hating his inability to act. _But would you do? Charge in there and tell a bunch a Death Eaters to stop or else? He was powerless and he hated it. He hated this place. He hated his uncle. He even now hated his father for doing whatever he had done that had resulted in Cesare's life spent in this madhouse. _

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Please review! Makes me write faster!


	5. The Will and the Word

Harry Potter, and friends and foes, blah blah blah all belong to J.K Rowling and all the other bureaucratic literary minions underneath her. I make no momentary profit from this. None at all. So hard to believe, huh? Lol

As always, Carina and Reliena, thanks for helping me turn my strange writing habits into readable English.

Another note, if anyone is interested in being a beta reader for this story, please contact me.

Chapter Four

The Will and the Word

                        _Four things come not back --- the spoken word, the sped arrow, _

_                        the past life, and the neglected opportunity._

_                        -Arabian proverb_

_                        Grief teaches the steadiest minds to waver._

_                        -Sophocles _

-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-_-+-

"Bit of a creepy book this is. Wonder who assigned it, considering we don't have a new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher yet."

Ron was sitting on top of the rickety desk in the room he shared with Harry. He was flipping through one of the new books they had just bought. "The Truth behind Black Magic: the Wizards, Magic, and Ideology That Promote the Dark Arts. It's got a guide to what sort of people are drawn to this stuff." Ron scowled. "Bet Malfoy is a perfect example."

Harry didn't answer. He was rummaging through his trunk, yanking out socks and quills, and throwing them over his shoulder.

Ron lifted his eyes above the gilded pages and curiously watched Harry. "Looking for something, mate?" he observed, an eyebrow raised at the mess Harry was making.

"Yeah. I can't find Lupin's present. I feel bad. I didn't even open it yet. I want to go see him, but I have to know what he gave me first." Harry rolled back on his heels and sat sprawled next to the open trunk. "It's not in there," he said dismayed.

"Where else could you have put it?"

"I dunno." He stood up and paced. "I came in here and sat on my bed and was talking to you and Hermione. I must have put it down somewhere around here." He began checking the creaking floorboards near the bed.

"Look under it," Ron suggested.

Harry lifted the mangy velvet bed skirt and spied the small wrapped package near the headboard. He snatched it up and sat back on the floor, now leaning against the bed.

"You're a genius, Ron," he said laughingly.

"I know, I know. I just try not to let it show. Wouldn't want to hurt Hermione's precious academic ego," the redhead joked. "Cut the suspense. Open it."

Harry ripped off the brown wrapping.

"Well, what is it?"

"I'm not sure," Harry replied, studying the strange object about half the size of his fist. It was made of a warm golden brown gem which swirled together with a lavender amethyst crystal. It felt pleasantly cool in his palm.

Ron squinted, trying to get a better look, but not willing to leave his comfortable spot on the desk. "He got you a rock?"

"No," Harry muttered, now focused on a short note which had also been wrapped around his gift. It was written in Lupin's slanted penmanship.

                        Harry,

This amulet is made of tiger's eye and amethyst. When these two gems work together, they protect the user from negative and reoccurring nightmares. Your father and Sirius searched for one to give to me a long time ago. It has helped me through some very difficult times. I hope it will be of an equally beneficial use to you.

Harry stared at the amulet in his hand and with a jolt, realized something. The past several nights he hadn't dreamed of Sirius's death. The amulet had been under his bed the entire time. It had worked. Harry felt slightly dizzy. He had been haunted by nightmares since Cedric's death. Perhaps this would really help. His heart felt lightened by that and he felt of rush of gratitude towards Remus Lupin. His old professor could not have any idea how much he appreciated this.

He remembered his original purpose in searching for the present. He put it on the small end table next to his bed and carefully tucked the letter away in one of his books. His eyes fell on the corner of the letter sticking out between the pages of the book and he was struck by a thought. What had made his father and Sirius look for that amulet to give to Lupin? He wondered briefly and then stood up. "I'm gonna go see how Lupin's doing."

Ron looked up from the book he was skimming now, _Dueling for Beginners. "You want me to go with you?" he asked and started to rise._

"No, no," Harry said quickly. "Don't worry about it." He left before Ron could say another word. He headed towards the room on the fourth floor where Lupin usually slept when he was here. It was down the hall from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room.

He knocked lightly on the door, hoping he wasn't disturbing Lupin if he was resting.

"Just a minute." Harry heard what sounded like wooden furniture legs scraping the floor and then bed springs creaking.

"Come in."

Harry slowly opened the door. Lupin was sitting upright in bed, his side heavily bandaged and his equally bandaged ankle propped up on a pillow. His tired eyes lit up when he saw Harry's face.

"Ah, Harry, how are you? I though you were Molly," he said and started to get up.

"Oh you don't have to get up, sir," said Harry quickly.

"Nonsense. I only got into bed because I thought you were Mrs.Weasley coming to make sure I wasn't working." He gripped the leg of his bed and started to laboriously push himself towards the desk. Harry hurried forward to help. He took Lupin's arm and helped to the chair. 

"Maybe you should take her advice."

The werewolf scowled slightly. "Nah, I'm fine." He turned to face Harry. "Here, sit." He conjured up a red armchair next to him. 

Harry sat down in the surprisingly cozy armchair. "I wanted to thank you for the amulet. It's been working really well."

Lupin smiled. "I'm very glad to hear that, Harry. I hoped it would."

"Professor........ you don't think that's the wrong way to deal with the nightmares, do you?" Harry asked, wondering aloud.

Remus's eyes turned serious as he contemplated the question. "I have long wondered that and came to a conclusion. I don't believe nightmares are entirely malevolent, but nor do I think they are particularly beneficial. They exist as our deepest fears, horrors, and regrets manifested in a terrifying realistic form. And in some cases, a person can be too deeply affected by the constant replay of tragedy."

Harry could swear that for a second, the shadows in Lupin's eyes got darker and his prematurely lined face appeared older, defeated. Then the look faded and was replaced was Lupin's normal, concerned visage. _Were you too deeply affected? he wondered._

"Besides, with your life, Harry, you should be given credit for simply waking up in the morning and making it through the day."

He couldn't resist the curiosity bubbling up inside him. "Why did my dad and......and Sirius," he said quickly, trying to ignore the quiver in his voice, "buy you that amulet? If you don't mind me asking, sir," he quickly added and then regretted the question. He realized how deeply personal it was.

Lupin suddenly became fascinated by his own hands, staring at his twiddling thumbs, refusing to meet Harry's eyes. "No particular reason," he said vaguely, but still refused to look at Harry. "But enough of this 'sir' and 'professor.' I haven't taught you in over two years. Remus is fine," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Harry knew Lupin was evading the question, but allowed him the quick change of subject. He didn't want to invade his privacy.

Lupin's face was grave again. He picked up a stack of papers from his desk. "Harry, there's something very important I have to discuss with you. But I will completely understand if you don't want to go through this now. There is absolutely no rush."

"What is it?" Harry asked, having a shrewd idea of where Lupin was leading.

Lupin was studying him carefully. "Sirius's will."

Harry's throat felt dry and his head very heavy. "What about it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"He left most of the Black fortune to you. Except for the house, which he gave to the Order and some money which he allotted to a few others. Most goes to you. I mean to arrange the transfer to your vault, but wanted to inform you first."

_Oh, Sirius_, Harry thought. The grief suddenly slammed into him, the way it always did. _Why were you so good to me? What did you get in return? I led you to your death........ He stifled the sob that threatened to double him over. He simply nodded._

Remus looked uncertain and placed his hand gingerly on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, we really don't have to discuss this now. I just thought...." his voice trailed off and he didn't finish his sentence.

Harry stared determinately at the paneled wall. He wasn't going to break down like a child. He refused to let Lupin know how much he was still hurting. Sirius would have wanted him to be brave. "No, it's fine. So do you need my key or signature, or anything?"

"No, the will should be enough." Remus was still watching him carefully. He thought he saw a flash of glistening in the young wizard's bright green eyes, but it disappeared a moment later. His heart ached for Harry's pain. He desperately missed his best friend, but he was more accustomed to grief. He knew only to well what it was like to lose your parents. But to have lost his godfather as well....... Fate could be a cruel thing.

"There was something else he wished to give to you," Lupin rushed, hoping this would erase some of the pain from Harry's face. "It's in the cellar."

"What's in the cellar?" Harry asked with cautious curiosity.

"I'll show you," Lupin grasped for the crooked, knobby cane that was behind the desk. He grunted as he forced himself up on the cane, trying to put as little pressure as possible on his bad leg.

Harry tried to grab his other arm, but Lupin waved him off. "I can do this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, let's just hope Molly doesn't find out. She'll PUT me in a hospital."

Leaning heavily on his cane, Lupin slowly and laboriously made his way downstairs. Harry followed him, feeling uncertain about the injured man's chance of getting down five flights of stairs.

They finally made it; however, and Lupin leaned against the grimy wall for a moment to catch his breath. "Damnable ankle," he muttered under his breath.

They were in a cramped, damp hallway leading to small, formidable looking door made of wood and iron.

"In there." The werewolf pulled out his wand.

"Alohomora!" The door flew open and Harry had to squint to make out a large shadowy object in the dim room. Lupin led the way in and muttered something else. Torches flared up along the wall and illuminated the dark shape.

"Wow," Harry whispered.

"Do you recognize it?" Lupin asked.

With a start, Harry recognized a strange feeling of deja-vu. "I think it might."

"That's remarkable," Lupin commented, impressed.

Harry slowly walked around the gigantic motorcycle, taking in every detail of its dark steel gleaming in the torchlight, the black leather (or was it dragon hide?) seat and trim, and huge wheels that would have well-suited Hagrid.

"This was Sirius's pride and joy. He loved this bike," Remus said quietly. "He would have wanted to you to enjoy it as he had." Lupin felt a sudden pain deep inside as he remembered how excited Sirius had been at the prospect of teaching Harry how to ride the bike. He had talked eagerly and often about where he would take him to learn and laughed at the memories of trying to get the other Marauders to ride it. James had flatly refused; taking highly personal offence on the sake of the broomstick. Peter had been terrified and also declined Sirius's offer. Only Lupin had tried it, and he although he never quite had Sirius's skill, he hadn't done too badly.

Lupin tried to shake off the sudden onslaught of memories and focus on the present situation. He watched Harry examine the bike, an expression of avid interest lighting up his face which lightened Lupin's heart. He felt positive enough to try and accomplish his next goal. It would prove to be a costly mistake.

"Unfortunately you can't ride it just yet. Ministry law decrees that you have to be at least sixteen and a half to get a learning permit," he said apologetically. "But nevertheless, the bike is yours."

Harry had climbed into the seat and sat astride the bike. He felt very high, even with the bike still on the ground. He could easily imagine a young Sirius in this same position, the wind whipping back his long black hair and a cocky devil-may-care grin on his face. That was a much happier image of Sirius and he concentrated on that feeling.

"Harry....... I've been talking with Dumbledore and the Weasley's and we seem to all have a similar idea. They asked me to bring it up with you."

"Uh, huh," Harry grunted, not looking in his direction. His attention was focused on the numerous dials and gadgets on the bike.

"Dumbledore believes......and I'm inclined to agree with him.......that considering the present circumstances........... And the fact that you spend most of your time in the wizarding world........."

_What's that?_ Harry poked at a small, spangled gauge. He was so engrossed in the motorcycle that he barely heard what Lupin was saying.

"Not excluding your Muggle family of course........but they're hardly able or knowledgeable in theses areas......"

_Oh, it measures star count. Interesting_, he thought, moving onto the next unknown device.

"So we decided that it would be in your best interests to have another guardian in the wizarding world. Of course, I immediately offered. The Weasley's would be more than willing as well. And I'm sure if there was someone else you had in mind........Many would love to consider you part of their family."

That last part finally caught Harry's total attention. His head spun around to face Lupin. "WHAT?" he asked incredulously.

Lupin looked slightly caught off guard by Harry's shocked face.

"What do you mean? What are you talking about? Adoption?" he demanded, his voice rising.

"Well.......I mean.........it could be whatever you wanted it to be. We just thought........"

Harry interrupted him. "You want to adopt me?"

"You'd still have to stay at the Dursley's, unfortunately. And during the school year........"

Harry had drawn himself up to his full height on the bike. His face had grown dark and his voice angry.

"What makes you think I need another guardian? What makes you think I WANT another guardian? I don't exactly have the best track record with them, now do I?" he asked bitterly and sarcastically.

Lupin realized this had been a serious mistake. "Harry, please, don't think I......."

"I DON'T WANT A REPLACEMENT FOR SIRIUS!" he roared. "You're not him, the Weasley's aren't him, and Dumbledore is certainly not him!

What gives you all the RIGHT to sit up in Dumbledore's office and discuss my life?! I can take care of myself, thank you very much." He jumped down from the bike and got very close to Lupin's face.

"First of all, I'm never told a thing. Never even WARNED about what Voldemort might try to do to my mind. No one gave a damn enough to give me a good enough reason to deal with Snape's Occlumency lessons." Harry was in a fury now, all the pain and anger exploding. He didn't care if it wasn't fair to blame Lupin.

"For nearly sixteen years! SIXTEEN! I was never even told the truth about what happened to me! No reason to trouble little Harry! He wouldn't understand. Look what happened! Sirius didn't need to die! He wouldn't have if I had been told about what Voldemort could do. But no, it's much easier to whisper in closed meetings in the kitchen.

So what? Now I'm supposed to fulfill this grand prophecy, but can't even be told about what the Order's up to? Well, that really makes sense.

You never even gave me a chance to make my own decisions. My life's been bloody 'arranged' since my parents died," Harry swore bitterly.

"Yes, because all your hasty plans have been successful," Lupin said sharply, and immediately regretted it. Oh God, he had not meant to say anything thing like that.....

"Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I don't mean to imply—"

Harry looked like he'd been slapped. He raised his hand, as if he was going to strike Remus, who instinctively flinched slightly. Instead, he shook his fist in his face, so furious, he could barely speak. The two men stared the other down; the accusations had been made and nothing could take them back.

"Are......are you.......blaming me........You, you don't know......" He stammered.

"What it's like to lose someone you care about? You might be surprised, Harry," Lupin said darkly. He desperately wished he could have taken back his words. The boy, (the young man, he corrected himself), was deeply grieved. He knew that. His own emotions had taken over as well.

Harry was at a loss for words, what he had wanted to say had been effectively snatched by Lupin. He was shaking with rage. He couldn't muster up a reply. Instead he simply shot the werewolf a furious glare, brushed past him, and stormed back up the cellar stairs.

Lupin knew better than to follow him. He sunk to the cold stone floor, dropping his cane. He hung his head in his hands. He felt like screaming in rage himself. He felt so deeply for Harry; knew his pain all too intimately. But he realized things were forever changed between the two of them. They had both hurled words which were hard to forgive......or forget.

It was so wrong. That was the only way he could describe it. Wrong. So many people, so many families: children, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, godparents. Torn apart forever in a cruelly unnatural and horrible way. 

Voldemort. It was all Voldemort. He had wrecked, ruined all of their lives. Completely destroyed what took years to build and nurture. And now he was back to do it again. God help them all.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry and Lupin effectively ignored each other the final few weeks of August. If one came into the room, the other silently left. Although Lupin was away most of the time, the tension between the two didn't go unnoticed. Mrs. Weasley looked concerned, and both Hermione and Ron had been trying to goad him into confessing what had happened. But Harry refused. They didn't know about the prophecy; why not this? He supposed keeping things hidden from his best friends was simply part of his new life.

Instead he threw himself into whatever he was doing: homework, housework, devising new marketing strategies with the twins, spying on the Order, or talking about the upcoming school year. He found it helped keep his mind focused.

When the day came to board the train for Hogwart's, Harry realized for the first time he wasn't really excited about or looking forward to the new school year. Each year seemed to bring successively worse tragedies. He dreaded what might happen this year. He simply felt exhausted from it all. He couldn't help wishing he could take a very long, or even permanent break from being himself.

~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~

You already know what I am going to say. Please review! I like input! A big thanks to Carina, T.H., and HogwartsHottie for reviewing!


	6. The New Kid

Okay, sorry this update took a little long. Yours truly here had her car totaled this week, so I was a little busy cursing myself and the other driver and lamenting over the loss of my cruddy, old car. Anyways, the next few chapters are written, I'll update as soon as I my betas translate them into something that resembles English.

Disclaimer: I own nothing! It all belongs to JK Rowling and her squad of very nice attractive lawyers. Compliment them, it warms their icy hearts and they don't sue you.

Thanks to those who reviewed!!! And my beta readers, Carina and Satyam

Harrypotterfanfiction.com

Rynantan

Loopylupin- okay, okay, i'll look at your fic. They're always Please don't howl at the moon. Im writing this way too early in the morning for howling, lol

Lupinssweetie- lol, i know. alias is the best

Joe

Clande

Merlynthia

DrusillaMalfoy- okay, you didn't actually read my story, but appreciate your review, nonetheless

Fanfiction.net

Carina- molto grazie! Mi piace la sua storia. scrive più presto!

Hogwartshottie

T.H.- thank you so much for your help with the italics! I finally got it to work

Chapter Five

The New Kid

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell you where you belong.

      - The Sorting Hat, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

"Never trust something if you can't see where it keeps its brain."

- Arthur Weasley, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_

Three weeks passed by quicker than Cesare wanted, although he couldn't wait to get away from his uncle, he hated the thought of going to Hogwarts. The morning before he left he packed his stuff and performed a shrinking charm on his overly large trunk. He dressed in Muggle clothes: jeans and a T shirt, to blend in at the train station. He had put his mother's pendent on a leather cord and looped it around his neck for good luck.

 Mari (what he decided to name his owl) was excitedly flying around his room. He studied his reflection in the mirror, trying to figure out what other students would see. He really hated being new. His black hair fell across his light brown eyes as it always did. Some girl he had gone out with once told him it was sexy. He didn't understand how his hair always being in his eyes was sexy, but whatever. Women. He rubbed his chin in irritation.

            "You should have shaved, sabi," the mirror commented in Arabic. Cesare rolled his eyes. Damn Egyptian antiques. Then he took a closer look at the black stubble on his chin. Maybe the mirror had a point.....

Okay, that was enough. He wondered briefly if this was how the other exchange students felt and then bewitched his trunk to make it weightless and grabbed Mari's cage. He whistled to get the owl to follow him before starting downstairs.

~*~^-^~*~^-^~*~^-^~*~^-^~*~^-^~*~^-^~*~^-^~*~^-^~*~

When he had finally dragged his stuff downstairs, he noticed his Vincenzo was pacing the floor and looking very disturbed. His eyes narrowed when he saw his nephew.

"You should know something before you leave. Your father went to that school and some of the staff may remember him. Never bring up the topic and if someone asks you about your parents, act like you don't know what they are speaking about or pretend you can not understand them. That shouldn't be hard, given your lack of proficiency in English."

Cesare was so surprised by his uncle's mention of his father that he didn't even bother to acknowledge the language insult. Instead he answered sarcastically. "How will I know when to avoid the topic if I don't even know my father's name?"

"Then I guess I do not have to worry about YOU initiating anything?" Vincenzo smirked.

Cesare couldn't even stop the words that came out of his mouth next. "My father isn't dead, is he?" he taunted.

Vincenzo whirled around to face him so fast, with a look of total fury obscuring his face. He stepped next to his nephew and grabbed his wrist in an iron grip, pulling him closer. "WHERE did you hear that?!"

"What does it matter if it's true?" Cesare asked, staring at his uncle's now pale face, inches away from his own. He could feel Vincenzo's fingers crushing his wrist, but could swear the man was afraid.

"You little, insolent bastard," he hissed. "I ought to kill you for speaking back to me like that." He shoved Cesare to the floor and he fell down a few steps, smacking the side of his head hard against the marble floor.

His vision swam and went dark for a second. He heard ringing in his ears and Mari's loud angry squawking. He tried to stand, but collapsed. He touched his head lightly and his fingers came away bloody.

"Clumsy fool," his uncle swore. He muttered a spell under his breath and the injury was abated slightly, but still left a nasty bruise. He was better at causing pain than healing it.

Cesare climbed to his feet, whipped his wand out, and pointed it at his uncle. Rage was etched into his furious expression

"Go ahead, mudblood, do it," his uncle smiled at Cesare's anger. "That's my boy, just let it out. Do damage! Curse me!"

Cesare locked stares with his uncle, confused by Vincenzo's demand. "Curse yourself," he spat. He put his wand away, grabbed his trunk and Mari's cage, and stalked out of the house towards the waiting car. 

"Have a nice school year!" his uncle mocked.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After the ride to England, which seemed magically shortened; Cesare pushed his trolley into King's Cross. He looked around for Platform 9¾, but it seemed to be missing. There had to be some kind of trick he didn't know about. He watched the crowd anxiously; hoping for a glimpse of someone who looked magical.

He wasn't waiting long. He spotted an oddly dressed family of three, dragging a trunk and an owl's cage. The three were garbed in a strange assortment of Muggle and wizarding clothes. The man stood out the most, wearing a vibrant green top hat, white tuxedo, and purple robe. 

Cesare watched as the family approached the brink column separating Platforms 9 and 10. The young girl kissed her parents quickly and then pushed her trolley, cage, and herself into the column. She vanished.

He had seen enough. Following the girl's example, he started pushing his trolley towards the brick column, gathering speed as he went. He burst onto Platform 9 ¾ and was amazed by what he saw.

A huge scarlet engine let out a loud steam whistle. Hundred of students milled around, saying their goodbyes and greeting their friends. Cats and owls were everywhere. Cesare eyed the scarlet train apprehensively and then dragged his stuff on. He walked down the train, praying for an empty car. All the cars were full of happy, laughing students who already were friends.

Finally, the last car of the train was empty. He walked into the last compartment. He shoved his trunk into the space above and put the cage on the seat next to him. He sat down and caught a glimpse of his arm. There was an ugly bruise formed and the finger marks were obvious. He assumed he had a mark on his face as well.

 He sighed and leaned against the cool glass window as the train started moving. He now had an answer to one of his questions. His father was definitely not dead. Vincenzo's fury had made that much clear. The unfamiliar, English country side raced by in a blur of sun-dappled fields and misty mountains. In no time at all he was fast asleep, exhausted by the fight and traveling.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

            Harry, Ron and Hermione barged loudly into the last compartment.

"Well, finally! This bloody train is so crowded," grumbled Ron, "There hasn't been a single empty car yet!"

"Shush! Not so empty," Harry warned, recognized the sleeping form of the strange boy from Diagon Alley.

"There you three are!" Another voice shouted and Neville and Ginny tumbled in, banging trunks against the floor.

"Shhh!"

Ginny looked up in surprise, the prefect's badge glinting from her chest. She tossed back her red curls and curiously asked, "Isn't that Malfoy's friend from Diagon Alley?"

"Unfortunately. Great, now we get to share a car with Draco's new goon. What's he doing here anyhow? You reckon he's new? I think older, new students are pretty rare," wondered Ron.

"Oh, I bet I know who he is," Hermione said and the others rolled their eyes, not one bit surprised. "He might be one of the students from that exchange program Dumbledore set up," Hermione said. Her answer was met with blank stares from the four other students. She rolled her eyes. "Don't you _ever_ read the Daily Prophet?"

Ron shook his head. "Only the articles about Voldemort," Harry confessed. She shook her head in disgust.

"So you haven't heard about the program?" 

"What program?" asked Ron, confused.

"Dumbledore set up a program for exchange students at Hogwarts. Y'know, to promote international magical unity and all that. He invited one student to represent each year, from all over the world." They put their trunks away and Harry voiced his opinion about the stranger. "Does he look at all familiar to you?"

Hermione shook her head, "Maybe he's just got one of those faces. After all, we don't even know his name," she pointed out.

"Who cares? He's obviously gonna be a Slytherin. Any friend of Malfoy's belongs in that damned house. Not our problem," Ron said. 

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny left a bit later to go to the Prefect's car. Harry was left with Neville, who was anxiously finishing up a bit of Herbology homework. Harry pulled out the book of hexes and curses that Ron had given him for his birthday. He stared at it blankly, unable to focus on the words on the first page. This birthday present made him remember Lupin's present, which made him remember the fight. He was starting to regret losing his temper with Lupin: his last link to Sirius and his parents; the last Marauder.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

By the time Cesare woke up, the train was pulling into Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione had gone to join the other prefects and Harry had gone to talk with other people from the DA. However, Cesare still didn't even know that they had been in the same compartment. He started to grab his bags, but was interrupted by. 

"Hello dear, are you one of the exchanges?" 

He nodded. The elderly plump witch smiled and extended her hand.

"Oh, I thought so. Come with me please, you can leave your stuff on the train. It will be taken care of," she added, seeing him pick up his trunk.

With one last look at Mari, who chirped encouragingly at him, he followed the woman. She waited outside the train and they were soon joined by six other students: three wizards and three witches of varying ages. The elderly witch accompanied them to a carriage and then waved good bye. "Professor McGonagall will meet you inside."

_'Professor who?'_ he thought before ducking into the carriage.

A stern looking woman with a severe black bun surveyed the seven of them when they arrived at the doors to the school. "Welcome to Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, students. You will be Sorted after the first years. Please follow me."

Cesare and the others followed her and he noticed the nervous expressions on the faces of the other exchange students. _'Probably wondering what 'Sorting' means. Well, Draco was good for one thing,' he thought to himself._

After the first years were Sorted, a stately looking wizard with a long silver hair and royal blue spangled robes stood up. Cesare recognized him as Albus Dumbledore.

"Welcome students new and old. I have the great honor this evening of initiating a tradition in Hogwarts history. As many of you are aware, Hogwarts has invited seven students from all over the magical world to join us at our school, in hopes of strengthening the common bonds which hold us together in these dire times. Please welcome them," he beamed and waved a hand towards the small group gathered at the end of the staff table. The rest of the school clapped along with him.

After the applause faded away, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Now I dare say we have a bit more Sorting," he laughed.

Professor McGonagall had remained next to the battered Sorting Hat. "Our new first year from Mexico, Gael Metzacuma."

A small boy with scared dark eyes made his way to the Sorting Hat. McGonagall placed it on his head. A minute later it screamed, "RAVENCLAW!" The Ravenclaw table exploded in applause and the boy made his way cautiously over to the table, a slightly anxious smile on his still nervous face.

McGonagall continued. "Second year from France, Gabrielle Delacour."

Harry strained to get a better look. Fleur's little sister. He smiled when he recognized the little girl he had pulled from the lake over a year before. She was Sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Third year from Nigeria, Asad Ademi." He was put into Gryffindor before the Hat had even sat comfortably on his head. Harry and the others in his House exploded in cheers.

"Fourth year from Japan, Amy Takugura." A petite girl with black braids made her way to the stool and was Sorted into Hufflepuff.

Cesare started to feel slightly apprehensive as they got closer to his year. Although he was almost positive he would be put in Slytherin, he still didn't like the idea of sitting with a ratty hat on his head in front of the entire school.

"Fifth year, from the United States, Monique Hanesly." A pretty girl with tawny skin, curly dark brown hair and hazel eyes walked shyly towards McGonagall. That left only Cesare and another boy.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Cesare took a deep breathe. He was next. His mouth had suddenly gone dry and he cursed himself for being nervous over a stupid thing like this.

"Sixth year from Italy, Cesare al-Jalil."

He could have sworn he heard someone at the staff table knock over something heavy, like a wine glass, when his name was called. Deciding it was only his imagination; he quickly strode over towards the wooden stool and sat down. McGonagall plunked the patched, ancient hat onto his head.

Harry watched closely. He expected the hat to scream out Slytherin before it touched his head.

Cesare was expecting the same thing. Suddenly he heard a small voice in his ear.           

"Hmm, difficult placement …. Too manipulative for Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw .…"

_'Hey, I'm not manipulative,'_ Cesare thought back angrily, rolling his eyes. _'Just get on with it, stupid hat, and put me in Slytherin!'_

"Obnoxious, aren't you?" The hat said, sounding offended. "Y'know MOST students try to be at least somewhat courteous to me, considering I have the power to decide where they spend the next seven years. Slytherin? Well, you probably DO belong there. But wait....nope, sorry. Not ambitious enough. Dear Merlin, do you even care how you mind up in life? Hmm, lot's of brains. _There's_ a surprise. Oh my, quite an amount of talent, dear boy! But--ah, ha! I know just where to put you! Of course, you'll probably hate it with a passion and be totally miserable, but it's for your own good, you know," the hat mocked. "Right now you're headed down a bad path. This House is where your TRUE self belongs. See if you can find where you seemed to misplace it."

_'Wait! What do you mean!? You're not putting me in .…! No! No, you can't put me in .…!_

"GRYFFINDOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" screamed the hat gleefully, VERY pleased with either itself or Cesare's outraged yell.

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

Author's Note

Okay, I know this chapter was a little shorter than usual. Now worries though. This chapter was seven pages, the next is nearly twenty. Yes, I know that's more than a little uneven. Next update will be soon, sooner if you write me reviews! Is that statement still considered blackmail? My beta reader wanted to kill me when she read my last a/n. Please, please review. Writing this takes a lot of time and I like to know if I should continue to do so. Thanks!


	7. Unexpected

Its all jk's.....  
  
Chapter Six  
  
Unexpected  
  
The enemy of my enemy is my friend. ~ Anonymous  
  
"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go around making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." ~ Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's (Philosopher's, take your pick, really) Stone ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
'Wait! No, no, tell them you made a mistake!' Cesare silently begged the Sorting Hat. He could have sworn he heard low laughter in his ear, as McGonagall whipped the hat off his head.  
  
"Go SIT down, Mr. Jalil," she said, sternly pointing at the Gryffindor table, ignoring the desperate look in his eyes.  
  
I am dead, he thought remembering his uncle's words. He slid off the stool and then saw a scarier sight. The Gryffindor table. Was he supposed to go sit down with Harry Potter and his friends? He remembered the day in Diagon Alley with an uneasy feeling in his stomach, and he recognized Harry Potter and the three other students who had been with him at the time. They probably hated him by now and he didn't blame them one bit. Well, at least he preferred being a loner.  
  
Cesare slowly walked towards the other Gryffindor sixth years, wondering if this is what he felt like to face a pack of Dementors all fighting to kiss you. He took the only seat, across from the boy with fiery red hair, and in between a pretty girl with a dark plait and another boy. He tried to keep his eyes focused towards the front, to avoid meeting the curious gazes of the other Gryffindors. He couldn't imagine a more uncomfortable position than he was in now, except perhaps sitting in the company of his uncle's Death Eater friends. He caught Draco's sympathetic and shocked gaze from across the room. The blond boy mouthed, "WHAT?" Cesare only shrugged.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The seventh year, Jeremy McDermott was being Sorted into Slytherin. The tall, strapping seventeen year old from Australia had sandy blond hair and was wearing a slightly dismayed expression at learning which house he was in.  
  
Dumbledore stood up again and smiled warmly. "I trust you shall all do your best to welcome your new fellow students. And now for one last announcement. Just one more," he added, his kind blue eyes twinkling with a knowing look. "And then the feast may begin." He swept his right arm towards the staff table and beckoned someone to stand.  
  
A black-haired witch stood up and Harry was surprised he hadn't noticed her before. She looked fairly young compared to most of the other teachers. She was wearing dark turquoise robes and instead of pointed hat, sheer gold silk draped over her hair, held in place by sparkling gold ring around her head.  
  
"Please also welcome Professor Mehrunnisa bint Jan Almari, our new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. She will be replacing Professor Umbridge, who kindly elected not to return." Dumbledore didn't even bother to disguise his delighted grin.  
  
This was greeted with enthusiastic cheers from most of the student body, excluding a good deal of the Slytherin table who looked grim at the news. From beside him, Cesare heard Parvati sigh to Lavender, "Ooo, look at her headdress. Simply classy. Sooooo much more stylish than Umbridge." Lavender giggled.  
  
The new professor smiled a slight incongruous smile, her eyes sweeping the Great Hall in an appraising manner. She sat down and Cesare glanced at the other staff members. One in particular caught his eye. The man had a sallow complexion and greasy black hair. He was studying the new professor intently, a strange expression on his unpleasant face. 'Odd,' Cesare thought.  
  
After Dumbledore finished speaking, the plates suddenly filled with food, weighing down the tables with countless dishes and courses. Everyone eagerly dug into the feast, which filled the Great Hall with a pleasing smell. Cesare studied the platter in front of him as if it was an exotic, yet dangerous creature. He had absolutely no idea what it was. It appeared to be some sort of round dish comprised of a crispy crust, lumpy gray sauce, and bits of meat. It seemed to be quite popular; the other students were all spooning it out onto their plates. He looked up and down the table for anything resembling pasta, falafel, or the Mediterranean fare he was accustomed too. No luck. He decided he would be safe with a turkey drumstick and bread. He continued to keep his eyes downcast, hoping to deter anyone looking to start a conversation.  
  
The Gryffindor sixth years were unusually quiet. The dark-haired, silent stranger made them feel like they shouldn't talk, Finally Dean couldn't stand it. "So....uh Che........Ched.......Chedder........ how DO you say your name?" he asked exasperated.  
  
Cesare gave him an odd look, pretty sure he'd just been called a type of cheese. "CHEH-ZAH-RAY," he corrected.  
  
"A jail?" Seamus offered helpfully.  
  
He was mystified for a moment. "What? Oh, yeah. Close enough," he muttered, assuming that was a twisted form of his last name.  
  
"THAT doesn't sound very Italian," a bold voice commented.  
  
Cesare looked up to see a pretty girl with thick brown hair looking at him expectantly. He made the connection instantly. The "mudblood," as Draco had called her, from Diagon Alley. Slightly surprised at her observation, "Ah.... it's not. My family is originally from Egypt," he explained. He decided to leave out the part where his great-grandparents were exiled by the Egyptian Ministry of Magic for bewitching the sands around the pyramids to swallow Muggles. He was pretty sure the Slytherin table would have gotten a good laugh out of that, but he wasn't AT the Slytherin table, now was he? He started to pour himself some pumpkin juice, hoping the conversation was over.  
  
"What school did you go to?" she asked, an interested expression on her face.  
  
What was this? An interrogation? "Anksenum Wizarding Academy."  
  
Her brown eyes lit up, but the rest of the table looked clueless. Cesare noticed more people looking his way, wondering about the two foreign students in their midst. The other new Gryffindor from Nigeria, Asad Ademi was uproariously laughing with younger students down the table. Well, at least somebody was happy.  
  
Twenty Questions wasn't over. Hermione had grown intrigued by the reference to Anksenum. "Ohh! Anksenum is supposed to be fascinating! I hear the students do very in-depth research about ancient Egyptian wizards and that they get a lot of field work in the pyramids. And there are supposed to be some wonderful, haunted castles in Italy. I read that almost a fourth of all European hauntings occur there."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes; did the girl do anything but study?! But Cesare had resigned himself to the conversation. He looked up at Hermione and she blinked. Harry was right! He did look eerily familiar. Particularly the eyes.  
  
"Yes, they are." He pushed his hair from his face. "I live in one that has ..." he trailed off when he saw the girl's startled expression. His hand immediately flew to the bruise on the side of his face. Damn, he had forgotten to cover it!  
  
Hermione only noticed Cesare's bruise when he tried to cover it. She had been startled about how familiar he looked. She grimaced, "That looks painful. Did you hurt yourself?"  
  
"Um ... yes. I ... ah ... fell down some stairs," he lied, slowly pulling his sleeve down to cover the marks on his arm.  
  
Hermione stuck her hand out across the table and Cesare stared at it for a second, confused.  
  
"Hermione Granger," she said smartly and he shook her hand. Harry was watching her, slightly surprised that she was being so friendly with Malfoy's friend. The others took that as a cue to introduce themselves.  
  
"Parvati Patil," she batted her eyelashes at him and Lavender Brown gave him an alluring smile. Ron was still staring at Cesare suspiciously. "Ron Weasley," he muttered with a trace of hostility evident in his voice.  
  
Harry sighed, deciding maybe he should try Hermione's route instead of Ron's. He offered his hand. "I'm Harry Pot-,"  
  
"I know who you are," Cesare said, quickly interrupting him. He didn't shake his hand. He tried to tear his gaze away from the scar on Harry's forehead. Years of his uncle's life spent cursing Harry Potter came to his mind. He found it hard to believe the he was sitting at the same table as the only person who had ever bested Voldemort.  
  
Harry looked surprised and this tense encounter didn't go unnoticed by some of the Gryffindors. Ron was now openly glaring at him and Cesare quickly became quiet again, hoping he could stay so for the rest of the feast.  
  
The other students were chatting among themselves now and Cesare was perfectly happy to be ignored. Suddenly he felt a strange, prickly sensation, like he was being watched, and turned around. He looked in the direction of the staff table. He suddenly realized the pale, greasy haired professor who had been watching Professor Almari was glaring at him with a look of pure hatred. It didn't even fade when Snape saw the boy notice.  
  
"Who's that?" he asked, startled out of his silence.  
  
Hermione turned around to look and got a shock. Snape was giving Cesare a nastier look than he even gave Harry! "That's Snape. He teaches Potions. He certainly doesn't like you," she added, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Harry looked up towards the staff table. Snape was staring at Professor Almari again. He suddenly looked slightly overwhelmed (a very un-Snape-like emotion) and stood. Only Dumbledore appeared to notice when Snape quickly slipped out of the Great Hall.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Draco caught up with Cesare as he was exciting through the Great Hall's massive double doors. He grabbed his forearm and pulled him out of the jostling crowd of black-robed students. Cesare sighed. He already knew what this was about and didn't feel like dealing with it right now. They stopped in front of a painting of a vain witch furiously fanning herself with a pink frilly contraption. Draco looked awestruck, his gray eyes wide in the panel of moonlight streaming in through a high, small window.  
  
"How-HOW did you get put into GRYFFINDOR?" he demanded in disbelief.  
  
Cesare shrugged, but looked dismayed. "That......ah.......what was it......the Sorting Hat," he spit out the hated words, "told me I didn't have enough ambition for Slytherin or something like that," said Cesare lightly, not wanting to go into his whole conversation with the Sorting Hat.  
  
Draco gaped, a nasty expression disfiguring his handsome face. "How dare a piece of a ratty piece of FABRIC tell you that you don't belong in Slytherin. You! Of all people!  
  
Cesare thought Draco seemed to be taking this rather hard, considering it basically had nothing to do with him. He leaned against the shadowed old wall and watched his Slytherin friend pace back and forth, an angry look carved into his pale, pointed features, muttering to himself.  
  
".......wasn't supposed to happen like this........reasonable assumption that he would be in Slytherin of course........"  
  
"Draco? When you're done having a deep conversation with yourself, would you mind telling me where the hell I'm supposed to go?" he joked, trying to get his friend to calm down.  
  
Malfoy stopped pacing and looked up at him, as Cesare was quite a bit taller. "The Gryffindor dormitory," he scowled. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I know where you can get in. Come on." He led the way through the dark interior of the school. He was silent as they walked and then suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked very thoughtfully at the worn stone floor  
  
"This might not be such a horrible thing," he said, seemingly a bit gleeful.  
  
"Nice that you think so. You're not the one that gets to deal my uncle," Cesare sarcastically replied. He didn't like the tone in Draco's voice  
  
Draco was barely listening to him, His whole face had lit up like a neon bar sign and he appeared positively delighted. "Think about it! You'll be sharing a room with Harry Potter! Breaking bread with the enemy! All the information you could glean from them....." Now he was near manic with exhilaration.  
  
"You want me to be a spy?" Cesare interrupted, incredulous. "Are you MAD?!" Lucius was definitely making a big impact in his son's life, noted Cesare wryly.  
  
The other boy turned to face him, and determinedly lifted his chin. "I thought you would be a little more eager at this opportunity to serve our cause," he coldly snapped.  
  
Cesare actually laughed. "Draco, don't be ridiculous. You want me to go around with a notebook and camera in Gryffindor? Maybe wear a disguise and go incognito, no? For 'our cause?' Don't be so stupid. You sound like your father when you say things like that."  
  
Draco didn't look at all amused. Instead his eyes flashed in anger. "Apparently I was very wrong about you. My...." he drawled, "Less than two hours in Gryffindor and you're already forgetting who you really are. Have fun finding your dorm," he added, his voice dripping with cool sarcasm. And with that, he whirled away in a swish of dark robes.  
  
"Bastard," Cesare muttered, as he watched Malfoy stalk away. First the Sorting Hat lectures him on losing his "true self" and then Draco blasts him for forgetting who he was. Did this school teach magic or self- realization? And he had no idea where to go and the corridors were deserted.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The Gryffindors were led back to their common rooms and the sixth year boys headed up the tower to their room. The room looked familiar except for the addition of a sixth canopied bed and dresser. Their trunks were at the end of each bed. Neville walked in while the other four were talking about their summers and new classes. He looked at the sixth bed with a moment of confusion before realization dawned on him. His eyes glanced around the room curiously. "Hey, where's Cesare?"  
  
Harry looked up in surprise at Neville's observance. He was so used to it just being the five of them that the thought of the new student hadn't even entered his mind. "I don't know," (and really don't care, Harry thought privately, remembering what had happened when Harry introduced himself to the exchange student.) "Maybe in the common room?"  
  
"It's gonna be kinda strange, y'know, having someone else here," Dean remarked looking pensive.  
  
"Yeah, especially considering how friendly he is," Ron sarcastically added. "He's got the look of a Slytherin, if you ask me."  
  
"Then I better wear my Gryffindor tie all the time, no?"  
  
Ron jumped like he'd eaten a Filibuster firework at the accented voice from behind him. Cesare was fingering the gold and crimson tie lying on top of the unclaimed trunk. No one had even heard him come in. A red flush crept into Ron's face, but he didn't look one bit remorseful. "Sounds like a plan," he muttered and went back to rummaging in his trunk.  
  
An uncomfortable silence filled the room and all five wordlessly changed and got into bed.  
  
Cesare waited until the others were snoring and crept to the window. Damn Draco, he thought for the hundredth time. Cesare had wandered the halls for quite a long time until the idea of asking the paintings for help had occurred to him. Thank God it had, because if had been wandering around a bit longer, he'd have found the SLYTHERIN common room and let Malfoy know exactly what he thought of his twisted plan........  
  
He tried to push the pleasant thoughts of hexing Draco away. Maybe being at Hogwarts would help him figure out his past. He reflected on what he did know about his parents. He didn't know if had been meeting the clerk from the Owl Emporium or simply arriving at Hogwarts, but an insatiable thirst for knowledge about them was coursing through him. He realized how ridiculous it was that a person should know so little about their own family. He knew his mother had been an al-Jalil and attended Anksenum before running off to Britain with his father, who might have had Muggle parents. Now he also knew his father had gone to Hogwart's and may or may not be dead. His mother had worked at the Owl Emporium before she died, when he was about two. Shortly after, his uncle had been declared his guardian. Cesare only knew that his father had been declared unfit, because "his kind weren't trusted," his uncle had said once. Whatever THAT meant.  
  
Cesare stared out at the moon, sprinkling twinkling light across the dewy grounds. It would be full tomorrow. This sent a shiver down his spine. For some reason the nightmares were always the worst at this time of the month. Another cold feeling crept throughout his skin and he started to shake. Damn this English weather. It would have been almost eighty degrees back home. Even hotter in Egypt. With a sigh, he sat back on his bed and laid down, still staring at the silvery moon.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Cesare woke up early the next morning before the other Gryffindors. He washed and then quietly opened his trunk. Inside were new Hogwarts robes with the Gryffindor crest, along with his tie, he noticed with an amused smile. He got dressed and checked the mirror above his dresser. The bruise was still a sick shade of bluish-black, running across the left side of his face. He took out his wand and pointed it at his face. "Ayutate." The bruise slowly faded into his skin. He examined his skin closely before deciding he was satisfied with his work. It was too bad the spell only worked on faces. He grabbed his books, wand, and other school things before heading down to breakfast.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
After breakfast, the Gryffindor sixth years had Advanced Transfigurations with Professor McGonagall. Cesare arrived last and took the only empty seat, next to Hermione. He pulled his chair as far away as possible from the girl, hoping her bold friendly attitude wouldn't manifest itself towards him today.  
  
"This year is very important." The professor started, "As stated on your classes list, this is an advanced course and an introduction to human transformation. You are all sitting here because you have demonstrated a certain level of skill in this subject and expect you to stay at that level." She eyed them sternly and Neville gulped.  
  
"Many you may remember when we studied Animagi in your third year. This year, if you wish, it is possible to begin researching your ability to be an Animagus. I must emphasis that this task is NOT to be taken lightly. Becoming an Animagus is a long and arduous process. Only certain people are able to do it. Please make an appointment with me if you're interested and we can take steps to discover whether or not you have the ability."  
  
Harry could keep the grin of anticipation off his face. Animagi! McGonagall could sign him right up. He whispered excitedly to Ron, who had an identical look of anticipation on his freckled face. "Excellent," he whispered.  
  
McGonagall turned and waved her wand at the word and started lecturing on turning furniture into chimpanzees. The class began taking notes. Hermione took a sheet of parchment from her desk, bumping Cesare's arm in the process. She noticed his small grimace of pain and looked down at his exposed arm.  
  
"Oh, my gosh," she whispered staring at the finger marks. "What happened?"  
  
"It's nothing," Cesare whispered back furiously. "Mind your own business," he said pulling down the sleeve of his robe.  
  
"Mr. Jalil, perhaps you're volunteering to demonstrate?" McGonagall asked, the irritation obvious in her voice  
  
"Um, ah.." he struggled for words.  
  
"Yes," she forcefully suggested. "Stand up. Let's see if not paying attention will help you turn this armoire into a chimpanzee. Saciosa chimichanga," she said.  
  
Cesare pulled his wand out and waved it at the tall piece of furniture. "SaciOSa chimiCHANga!" he incanted. The cupboard was immediately replaced by a orangy brown hairy ape. It looked around, yelled loudly and leapt up onto McGonagall's desk. The students burst into whispers throwing curious glances at the black-haired newcomer,  
  
"Silence, class!" she shouted, scaring them all out of talking again. "Very good, Mr. Jalil. Surprisingly. The class continued to unsuccessfully try to turn desks, armoires, and beds into chimpanzees until the end of the period, with Hermione occasionally throwing Cesare jealous looks after her chimpanzee was still made of solid wood.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The first day flew by, along with his Advanced Arithmancy and Charms classes. He was slightly displeased to realize Hermione was in both those classes with him as well. She glowered at him, apparently still smarting from his "mind your own business" remark. Before he knew it, it was night again. Ron and Harry were whispering about something and Cesare heard the word "potions" brought up. He realized with a small jolt that he had that class tomorrow morning with greasy-haired professor who seemed to have taken an immediate disliking to him.  
  
The boys eventually fell asleep, again with exception of Cesare. He went to the window again and stared at the now full moon. He poured himself a glass of water and took a sip. He thought back to McGonagall's class. He'd have to speak to her about trying to become an Animagus. He'd always been interested in doing that. He imagined what sort of an animal he might become. An image suddenly popped into his mind. A sleek black wolf racing through a tall green forest under a dark sky, twinkling with stars. Odd, he thought, he'd never seen a wolf before yet the vision was clear. The forest looked unlike anything he'd have been near in Italy, and certainly not Egypt. He closed his eyes and willed the image to come back to him, the silvery rays of moonlight bouncing off his closed lids.  
  
Suddenly a sharp pain shot through him that nearly drove him to his knees. It was followed by what he could only describe as a painful assault on his senses. Everything seemed louder; he could hear crickets from across the school ground and beyond. And the smells! In an instant he knew what every sleeping boy had eaten for breakfast. His eyes flew open in shock and he could see every detail in the dark room perfectly well, as if it was a bright sunny day. His couldn't take the sounds; he clasped his hands to his ears and stumbled back, dropping the glass. It shattered, yet remarkably, no one woke up. Cesare didn't even notice. The pain was indescribable. His body was still racked with torment as he tried to climb to his feet, pulling himself up on a dresser. He caught sight of his face in the mirror and cried out. His eyes had turned a wild yellow color. Only this time the nearest sleeper woke up at his cry: Harry.  
  
Harry woke up with a start at a strange yell. He looked around blurry-eyed and saw a figure next to his dresser. "Who's there?" he asked and reached for his glasses. He put them on and studied the other student. He gasped at the change in Cesare's eyes and drew back. "Cesare? Wha-what are you doing? Is there--?"  
  
Cesare's hands once again flew to his ears, hearing Harry's voice magnified a hundredth fold. "No, don't say anything!" he gasped, gritting his teeth.  
  
Harry didn't understand what he was talking about and quickly got up. "Are you ill? You want me to get Madam--," he was silenced, when Cesare suddenly darted from the room and down the stairs, unable to deal with Harry's booming voice any longer.  
  
Harry sighed, grabbed his wand, and followed him slowly. He might not be friends with the new student, but if there was something seriously wrong with him, he needed help.  
  
Cesare reached the fireplace and collapsed into an armchair. Calm down, calm down, calm down! He told himself. Slowly his senses returned to normal, leaving a gasping, confused young man behind.  
  
Harry reached the common room and saw Cesare, trembling and staring into the fire. What the hell had happened? "Are you okay? What happened?" he asked. Then he remembered the full moon and for some crazy reason blurted out, "Are you a werewolf?"  
  
Cesare's very wide brown eyes met his, and the feeling that Harry was looking at someone he'd seen before returned. Surprise mingled in with the fear in his gaze. Surprise at the concerned look on Harry's face. The fire lit up the room, sending red, dancing waves of light over the walls and Cesare's features. "No," he started slowly, "I think it's something else."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Hey, guys I'll post the next chapter soon if anyone is reading this, lol. Please, PLEASE review and tell me your input and if this story is worth keeping up! And thanks to those who did review! I love ya! 


	8. Potions and the Pact

Disclaimer: Please don't sue me. All characters belong to the literary genius J.K. Rowling except the ones I made up off the top of my head. J 

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter Seven**

****

**Potions and the Pact**

****

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.

-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-

"Then what? What exactly happened?" Harry wasn't sure whether or not he believed him. Lupin had also been very secretive about his past. And why not? Werewolves were hated and feared in both wizarding and muggle communities alike. But he supposed being a werewolf wouldn't work. Cesare hadn't actually transformed.

"I don't know exactly. All of a sudden.....my sight and my sense of smell.....and hearing were......amplified or something," Cesare muttered, more talking to himself than Harry. Harry was pretty sure the experience had shocked the other wizard, otherwise he wouldn't be telling him all this.

"Maybe it's some kinda disease. Like something that runs in your family," Harry offered, and then realized he had made a mistake in mentioning Cesare's family.

His expression turned ugly. "What do you know about my family, Potter? What are you doing down here anyway?" Cesare asked nastily. 'Just leave,' he silently begged. 'Why can't people just stay away from me?' He feared the strange occurrence might happen again and he didn't want to be near anyone he could hurt. That killing instinct had left him very unsettled. But this concern didn't show in his next statement. "Get OUT, Potter. NOW," he demanded, staring at Harry with a dark look in his eyes.

Harry actually felt a chill up his spine. Ron was right, he thought. This kid DOES belong in Slytherin, he realized. There was coldness in his eyes that could not be denied. In fact, Harry looked at him closer, his eyes were almost red. Bizarre. The room was deathly silent for a few moments except for the cracking of the fire. Harry started to back away, then paused annoyed.

 "For your information, I came downstairs to make sure you weren't dying or anything," Harry said coolly. "All anyone wants to do is be nice to you. You're the problem. Maybe if you weren't so hostile, people would help you out with things like that," he said pointing to the bruise on Cesare's arm. Then he returned upstairs.

Cesare slumped into the chair and wearily closed his eyes. He felt lost and disconnected. He just wanted to know what was going on! Who was his father and the new question. 'What is HAPPENING to me?!'

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That morning at breakfast, Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat away from the others, their whispering faces bent over the table. Harry had filled them in on the previous night's encounter.

Ron was shocked. "What is it with this kid? Honestly, he sounds dangerous or something."

"I don't know," Harry replied. "All we know about him is that he lives with his uncle in Italy, goes mad at the full moon, and is VERY defensive about his family."

"You forgot some things," said Hermione, sounding teacherly. "Snape hates him obviously and he's remarkable in Transfiguration. No one else in our class even came close to transfiguring a chimpanzee yesterday. It's supposed to take weeks."

"A dark wizard could do that easily," Ron said grimly, the accusation very clear.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please, Ron. I highly doubt Dumbledore would admit a dark wizard into Hogwarts for a foreign exchange program. I believe that would defeat the whole purpose of magical unity against Voldemort."

"Why not? Malfoy still goes here, doesn't he? Besides, I don't think he would have included that on his application," Ron said sarcastically.

Harry frowned, ignoring their bickering as usual. "Also, I know I keep repeating this, but he looks extremely familiar. I don't know why, but I feel like I've met him before. There's some sort of weird connection. I have find out what," he confessed.

Ron smiled mischievously. "Do I smell an adventure that might get us killed or expelled?" he joyfully asked. Hermione rolled her eyes. But Harry didn't think Ron's comment was very funny. Not after last year.

"Ron! Can you be intelligent for a little while? Please?" said Hermione annoyed.

Harry picked up a piece of his toast and smeared jam on it. Then his face fell as he remembered something. "Oh, no! Hermione! We have Advanced Potions next!" he groaned and hit his head on the table.

Hermione looked grim, and then brightened up slightly. "Hey, at least maybe we'll get some clues about why Snape hates him."

Ron looked sympathetic. "Nah, probably just a typical day of Snape harassing you. As in YOU, meaning not me," he said gleefully. "Sorry just had to rub it in at least once. Harry, don't let Snape get to you. Hermione, don't irritate Snape and get Harry in trouble."

"Ron," Hermione said sweetly. "You have ten seconds to flee before I hit you with this." She plunked her heavy potions book on the table with a resounding TWACK.

Ron's eyes widened and he put down his goblet of pumpkin juice and grabbed his bag. "Just realized I'm gonna be late to Herbology. I hope—,"

"Eight.....Seven."

Ron shut up and left the table. Harry hid his smile with his hand. Hermione looked satisfied. "Don't worry, Harry. I'm sure Potions will be fine, probably just dull." He nodded sullenly.

They had no idea what lay in wait.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Advanced Potions class was a composite of all four Houses. About fourteen students (the only ones in the year who'd been accepted by Snape) were seated waiting for Professor Snape. Cesare took a seat in the back, next the Blaise Zabini. The blonde gave him a disdainful look. Gryffindors and Slytherins never sat next to each other if it could be avoided.

Professor Snape swept into the room and eyed the class with disgust, already in a foul mood. "All of YOU again," he said. "Let me guess, you've gotten stupider since last year. It wouldn't be a surprise." He sighed as if he had been hexed with an incurable disease. "Hand in your summer assignments. NOW! We'll see how worthy of this class you all are." he added forcefully.

Cesare looked around nervously. Summer assignments? WHAT summer assignments? He hadn't been given any. He had hoped Snape wouldn't notice him, but it was too late. Cesare looked up as Snape walked by; checking to make sure everyone had done their work. He stopped at his desk and towered over Cesare, a nasty smile of anticipation playing at his thin lips.

"Mr. Jalil .…." Snape said, drawing out his name. "So, our new student doesn't feel the need to do assignments. Maybe he shouldn't be in this class at all. Apparently Anksenum has grown quite _lax_ in their grading policies," he mocked with malicious delight in his pale face. "Ten points from Gryffindor, not to mention your floundering grade. Tsk, tsk." Snape returned to the front of the room and surveyed the students arrayed in the dark, cold dungeon.

"I think we need a seat change," Snape announced, staring at Harry and Hermione bunched together. His eyes flashed angrily as they alighted on Harry.

"Potter and Malfoy here, Bones and MacMillan there, Padma and Pansy there, and Granger and ….. Jalil ..… behind Malfoy. Move!"

The students all scrambled to their new seats, eager not to invoke any more of Snape's fury. Cesare unwilling took his seat next to Hermione. He assumed Harry had told his friends about last night. He ignored her imploring look, remembering the trouble it had caused him in Transfigurations. Snape told them their lesson. 

"Now get started! I have to go into my office for awhile. No one. NO ONE," he said, staring directly at Harry, "is to misbehave. Understood?" With that, he strode into his office and shut the door.

Cesare heated up his cauldron and started measuring out his supplies. He was _NOT_ going to do badly in Potions. He refused to give that horrible professor any more of a reason to hate him. He added some of the ingredients, and then checked his book to see what they were making. His heart skipped a beat. The Wolfsbane Potion. Odd, considering Potter's remark last night. But that had been a stupid idea. He hadn't actually transformed into anything and was pretty sure he would have remembered being bit by werewolf. That probably would have been a SLIGHTLY memorable occasion, he thought sarcastically. _No, Potter was being ridiculous_, he told himself firmly

Meanwhile, Malfoy was mercilessly teasing Hermione and Harry. He "accidentally" dropped his toad eyes into Hermione's cauldron, ruining her potion.

"Sooooo, _sorry, mudblood," he laughed. "I forgot how clumsy your kind can be. Forgive me, mudblood. I have forgotten your MUDBLOOD ways, perhaps .…." he drawled on._

"Oh, shut your _mouth_, Draco," demanded Cesare harshly, simply tired of Malfoy's haughty beliefs. The class turned to watch what was happening. Draco's gray eyes lit up, full of malevolent delight.

"Standing up for the _mudblood_?! Wow. Amazing," he whistled slowly and circled Cesare's table like a grey-eyed shark. "MUDBLOODS," he emphasized the word now, "aren't worth your effort." Draco watching his former friend get angrier by the minute. He had lost interest in Hermione and Harry and was totally focused on this new target. "I am _impressed_. Tell me, Jalil, do the Gryffindors have big group hugs and talk about their love for freaks and halfbreeds? Is that what changed you? Did you confess all your family's hatred for mudbloods? Beg for forgiveness about your ignorance of Muggles? Have they converted you to their ideas?"

The rest of the class had gotten involved now. The Slytherins were egging on Malfoy while the Gryffindors grew enraged.

Cesare was quaking with fury. The violent instincts that had nearly overcome him last night were again gnawing at his mind. "I'm warning you, Draco......" he started, grabbing the edge of the desk with his shaking hands.

Malfoy ignored him. "So, you really are a traitor," he said quietly under his breath, to keep the other students from hearing him. "First you weren't willing to do your duty for the Dark Lord and now you're defending mudbloods." He leaned in close to Cesare. "Wouldn't your parents be so _proud," he hissed into his ear._

That was the last straw. Cesare let out an animal-like roar and started to pull his wand out, but Malfoy was expecting it.

"Expelliarmus!" Draco yelled and Cesare's wand flew out of his hand. Malfoy gave him a triumphant glare.

It didn't matter. He didn't need it. Cesare grinned madly and Malfoy's gleeful face fell. Cesare jumped over the desk and tackled the unsuspecting blond wizard to the floor. He let loose with sickening punch, and then another, feeling Draco's nose crack as his fist connected with his pointed face. He felt barely human, as if he was watching himself from far away. Part of him knew he had to stop, but it was simply more pleasure to pound Malfoy's face into the floor. He started to hit him again, but was wrenched back roughly by a shocked and furious Snape. He struggled against the Professor's grip.

"Stupefy!" Snape yelled and Cesare slumped to the floor. Snape grabbed a vial of a dark potion from his desk and poured it down Cesare's throat. He performed the counter curse and Cesare stood up, feeling light-headed. What just happened? he wondered. The other students drew back as he took a shaky step towards them.

Snape's voice was shaking he was so enraged. "You!" he ordered Ernie and the boy flinched. "Take Draco to the hospital wing immediately! The rest of the class is to remain silent! Don't touch your cauldrons! As for the _three of you_!" He screamed at Cesare, Hermione, and Harry. "Dumbledore's office. NOW!" He led the three of them out of the dungeons towards the headmaster's office.

 Harry and Hermione exchanged dark, frightened glances. They hadn't really been involved. What if they were expelled? But they didn't protest, not wanting to call down any more of Snape's wrath upon themselves.

"Fizzing Whizbees," Snape snapped at the stone gargoyle guarding the way. 

"Stay RIGHT here!" he demanded and entered the headmaster's office. The three students remained in the hallway.

Cesare slumped to the floor near the heavy wooden doors. Now what was he going to do? If he was expelled, (and he expected to be. He HAD viciously attacked another student.), he could never return home. Vincenzo would kill him for sure. He started to contemplate his next move, but stopped when he realized he could hear some of Snape's ranting inside. He was sure Harry and Hermione could as well.

"_UNCONTROLLABLE _………….. told you not …….. first day ……….could have killed! ……….. never let him in ……….. just like his father …………"

Cesare's attention pricked up at this snatch of conversation. Snape knows my father too! Maybe he went to school with him ………He forced himself back to the matter at hand. This wasn't exactly time to wonder about his parents.

" …………….. ALSO capable of murder! …………. at sixteen, only sixteen! ………. his blood …….. expelled and forwarded to Azkaban!"

Cesare was shocked. '_I mean come on; it WAS just a school fight.'_ But why had he snapped like that? He had gotten into fights before, but never like this. He had lost all control. He hadn't been able to stop. His blood chilled at that realization. If Snape hadn't come in, he might _have_ killed Draco. Then he heard the mumble of a quieter, calmer voice which he assumed belonged to Dumbledore. He wasn't screaming his lungs out, unlike Snape, so Cesare only caught a few words.

" ……. extenuating circumstances …….. understanding ……." He went on.

Snape suddenly crashed out of the room, slamming the door open. 

"He wants to see you two!" he yelled at Harry and Hermione. They quickly slipped into the room, eager to avoid an angry Snape. Snape refused to even glance at Cesare and stormed down the hall, continuing to rant out loud about maniacs and murderers and more Whomping Willows. '_What a nut_,' Cesare thought.

Harry and Hermione were only in the office for a few minutes and then they left too, exchanging whispers and furtive looks down the hall.

"Come in, Mr. al-Jalil," a voice called from inside the open room. Cesare walked in, very unsure of what was going to happen. The circular was full of light and beautiful objects. A gorgeous red and gold phoenix perched on a stand nearby. He saw the white bearded Dumbledore stand and offer his hand. For a second Cesare flashed back to the frequent times he was called to the headmaster's office for fighting in Anksenum and had to bite his lip to keep himself from greeting Dumbledore in Arabic.

"Cesare, my boy. You look so much like your mother," he greeted him with a smile and warm handshake. Cesare felt Dumbledore's crinkly blue eyes study him through his half-moon glasses. "You have your father's eyes, however. His face too."

"Ah …… thanks," Cesare stammered. Where was the lecture? The screaming? Being expelled? Instead, he was telling him he had his father's eyes. They certainly did things differently in Scotland. They both sat and Dumbledore rested his chin on his long fingers.

"I hear there was an incident in Professor Snape's class. He was quite …….er..... _ANIMATED about it. Of course, there are certain circumstances where such anger is unavoidable, especially in your special case."_

Cesare was confused. His 'special' case? "Sir?"

Dumbledore sighed. "There are certain times for explanations of the sort. Now is not the time for one of them. At least not yet. Mr. Potter and Miss Granger explained that Mr. Malfoy might have gone a little …….. too far in his language. I understand why you were upset. However, that is no excuse for a fight," he added sternly.

"Yes, sir. I understand. I'm very sorry," Cesare apologized profusely, wondering if there was a small chance he wouldn't get expelled. 

"I will be forced to give you a week of detention with Hagrid. Snape wasn't, er, very enthusiastic about seeing you again for detentions. Now you may go to lunch. It will be starting in about ten minutes." He stood.

Cesare stood and shook his hand goodbye, still stunned at his relatively light punishment. However Dumbledore didn't let go of his hand. The headmaster's eyes were studying the bruise on Cesare's exposed arm with alarm. He looked at Cesare expectantly over his half-moon glasses.

Cesare tried to think of an explanation. "Um …… I uh …… guess Malfoy must have grabbed me during the fight," he lied.

"I see. Pretty soon for a bruise to show up," Dumbledore added. It was obvious he didn't believe him. Cesare shrugged. "Well, if it's something that starts to....._endanger_ you, you can usually find me here."

He nodded. "Yes, sir." He started to leave, but Dumbledore had something else to say.

"Cesare? I also will have a sleeping potion sent to you tonight. By tomorrow, the moon will have waned and you should be just fine, but simply request one when you feel you need it. Rest is very important."

Cesare was shocked. "How did you ……….?" But he ended the sentence. No sense telling Dumbledore anymore. Although it probably didn't matter. He had the feeling the headmaster could practically read minds. "Thank you, sir," he simply said and quickly left the office.

Dumbledore watched the boy leave with troubled look on his lined face and then looked up at Fawkes. "I believe it may have been a mistake to wait so long to get him into Hogwart's. I fear the damage may already have been done." he murmured to the phoenix.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A very irritated Ron sat across the table from Harry. Lunch had just started and the Great Hall was filled with excited, buzzing voices from its wooden floors to the enchanted blue sky ceiling.

"Now that's just not fair. The first year I don't take Potions and I miss the opportunity to watch Malfoy's face get smashed. There is no justice in this cruel world." Ron was prevented from further moaning when Ernie Macmillan stopped by there table, looking similarly disgusted. "Just got away from the Infirmary. Malfoy nearly drove me mad with all his crying and complaining. I mean COME ON! It's just a broken nose! You'd think he'd a been in full body cast the way he was bawling. Got blood all over my robe too," Ernie said, completely revolted. "Madame Pomfrey had to charm it out."

Harry waited until Ernie went back to his table before filling Ron in on what he and Hermione had heard in Dumbledore's office. Ron was amazed.

"Wow! I wonder what his dad did. You think he killed people or something?" he asked eagerly.

Harry shrugged, slightly perturbed that his best friend was so giddy at the thought of Cesare's father murdering people. "Snape made it sound that way." He took a bite of his sandwich and a swig of pumpkin juice.

Ron gaped in wonder. "Wow," he said and chewed his lunch thoughtfully.

Harry raised an eyebrow. He had to ask. "You're excited that the guy might have offed people? Now Ron, that's just not healthy."

Ron shot him a look, and then laughed. "You're right. Let's talk about something else. McGonagall tell you you're Captain yet?

Harry grinned. "Yup, right after Transfigurations. How'd you guess?"

His best friend rolled his eyes dramatically. "C'mon, Harry! You're a Quidditch phenom and have been on the team since your first year. Who else was she gonna pick?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. Anyway, we still have a problem. Know anywhere we can find two beaters and another chaser? Katie Bell is in her last year and I know Ginny has her heart set on making chaser. I'm pretty sure she will. She's an excellent flyer. And you're Keeping. YES, YOU'RE STILL KEEPING, RON," he added firmly, leaving no room for argument. "But that still leaves our team with three positions to fill."

Ron looked grim. "That's gonna be hard," he agreed. "But I guess the only thing you can really do is hold try-outs and hope for the best."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Meanwhile, Hermione, the ever studious student, had headed to the library to do some early work. She strode into the spacious room and took a deep breath of its characteristic smell; musty, ancient books containing a wealth of knowledge for her to discover. She knew thoughts like that were horribly nerdy, but she didn't care. It was one of the few places she felt completely accepted and at home.

The room was nearly empty. Not many students liked to come here on the first few days of school. In fact she saw only one other person beside Madam Pince, the librarian, who gave her the usual annoyed look. The student was sitting at a table covered with ancient texts and completely immersed in what he was doing. He looked up in surprise when she approached and immediately snapped the book shut, and moved his arm to hide the title, but it was too late.

Hermione plucked one of the books off the table and read off the title, "Being or Beast? The History of Werewolves." She looked at the other one. "Hairy Snout, Human Heart*," She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Catching up on Potions?"

Cesare looked very irritated at her intrusion. "Yes, as a matter of fact I was. Now if you don't _mind_........" He cracked open his book again, sending out a small poof of dust.

His accent made his words sound musical, Hermione noticed. Not entirely Middle Eastern, nor Italian. The result was actually quite pleasant to hear. Her face didn't betray her thoughts and she picked up another book. "Moon Senses: a Guide to Odd Lunar Behavior."

"I'm very glad to see that you can read," he said sarcastically, not looking up from his book. '_Maybe if I pretend she's not there, she'll get the hint.....'_

Hermione smirked and dangled the book in front of his face. "Oh, I'm sure this is for Potions," she replied, matching his sarcastic tone.

He scowled. Obviously Potter had not kept his mouth shut about last night. "Did you need something or—"

Hermione cut him off by sitting down, uninvited, opposite him and he was forced to look up and acknowledge her presence. "Anyways, I'm glad I saw you here. I wanted to thank you for defending me. I know Malfoy was your friend. Even if your actions were a bit, well, extreme."

"Who says I was defending you?" he laughed, surprised that she thought that.

She drew back slightly, angry at herself for being a little bit hurt. She had known he was a jerk before today.

She shot back, "Well, you're even ruder than I originally thought. I guess you're not very experienced in speaking with girls," she snapped, hoping to embarrass him.

Cesare leaned back in his chair and gave her a slight smile, raising a dark eyebrow at her comment. "You might be surprised," he replied dryly. 

Hermione felt a blush rising in her cheeks. '_I'm sure I wouldn't,' she thought. '__Not with those smoldering eyes and strong brown arms that she could all too easily imagine being wrapped in .....….'  She scolded herself mentally. '__Are you crazy__? You sound like Lavender and Parvati!'_

"I didn't, uh, mean, er in THAT way," she stammered out. He looked amused. '_He probably thinks I'm an immature school girl!'_

Cesare actually was thinking the exact opposite. The English girl looked even more beautiful with a pink flush creeping up her face. Her rich brown hair hung straight and thick, framing her face and warm brown eyes. Maybe he could work this whole "defending" thing.

She stood up, even more embarrassed at his gaze. "I should start the Potions homework. Do you need any help?"

He sighed deeply, but warmed up to her friendly tone. "There's really no use. Potions has always been my worst subject and now that Professor Snape's not going to exactly be my new friend ……" he added bitterly.

Hermione smiled, an idea forming in her mind. "Well, I'm pretty good in Potions. I bet I could help you. For a price, of course," she added, a devilish grin cracking across her face. Ron and Harry had been a bad influence.

"What price?" Cesare asked cautiously and immediately looked guarded.

"You."

"What?" he laughed. "Come now, you are pretty girl. You need not blackmail men like this."

She gave him a glowering look that could have silenced Voldemort himself. "That's not what I meant! You have a horrible mind. Anyways I meant you mingle. You assimilate. Let me introduce you to people, take you to school events and you make friends. And you have to be FRIENDLY."

"I'm friendly," he said sullenly, feeling insulted.

"Sure, as friendly as a hostile manticore.*"

"And this price helps _YOU_ how?" he shot back.

"I need a new project."

He scowled. "I'm not interested in being some British girl's pet project."

 "Fine. Then have fun failing Potions. I'm sure Snape will have a great time academically annihilating you this year." She turned to leave.

Cesare had a horrible image of Snape poisoning him for failing a test and called out. "Wait!" He jumped out of his seat and caught up with her. She had a knowing smile on her face.

"Yes?"

"If I agree to this blackmail, or whatever it is........"

"Deal, not blackmail. That sounds too harsh," she said sweetly.

He fought not to roll his eyes. Her _TERMS were harsh! "If I agree," he started again. "You swear to help me through Potions?"_

"Of course. In exchange, you be nice and let me show you around."

"Then I agree."

They shook on it. "But I don't trust your reasons," he added.

"So we're off to a great start, because your recent behavior disgusts me," she said with a benevolent look, one that you might see a parent give to a misbehaving young child. He scowled again.

"Also, you have to SMILE, not scowl. Everyone in school already thinks you're psychotic and violent , thanks to Slytherin's rumors. Charm them. Besides you have a very nice smile."

He grinned widely in response and they both looked at each other a little longer than necessary, until Hermione made a hasty excuse of having to go find a book and hurried off. Cesare watched her retreating figure with a bemused smile, and then tried to return to his research. He tried to ignore his slight disappointment that her price wasn't what he originally thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

-_~ Author's Note~_-

Okay, I'm leaving in two days and I'm going to be away for a few days after that. I have the next chapter ready to go and it's a nice long one. Lol. If I get enough reviews, I'll post it before I leave. If not, I'll post it after I get back. Yes, that's blackmail. I'm sorry, but I really want you to review! Please!

I'm taking a bit of an informal poll that may or may not influence my story. In your review please tell me if you prefer one in each pair.....

hermione/harry or hermione/ron? harry/Hermione or harry/ginny? or no preference at all 

this probably won't even change my story, i'm just trying to get your opinions. Thanks!

Another thing, my beta reader asked me about Katie Bell's age and if she already graduated. The books aren't very clear. In Order of the Phoenix, Ginny says Angelina and Alicia are leaving the next year. There was nothing about Katie. Therefore, in my story I'm considering her a seventh year.

look in fantastic beasts and where to find them by j.k. rowling for more info. Plus the proceeds go to a great cause! 

A huge thanks to my reviewers!! You guys make my day!

Rynantan

Loopylupin- yea! u mentioned my story in your's! now go write another chapter so i can read it! Lol

Lupinssweetie

Joe

Clande

Merlynthia

Katie aka hermy, lol

Padfoot

Normal

Lilykk

Rebecca

MsDevious- lol, i wish i had a new car. Thats why i have two jobs. Blech! I like h/h though too!

Silverdiadem 

Sophiegrace

Remus

Carina- my beta reader. You're the best!

PhoenixTear- lol, come on? You really think I'm gonna give away his father's identity so soon? 


	9. The Jinn

Okay, this chapter is a lot longer than the other one, and have a bit a lengthy a/n at the bottom. It explains a lot. This chapter is also known as 'The Chapter Samba Played Around with Fonts' lol, thanks to T.H.

Disclaimer: I own everything! Nah, I wish. ::hits lawyers:: I only take credit for the few characters, settings, and plots that I made up in my head.

Chapter Eight

The Jinn

_"I beg you, my child! Throw away the lamp and the ring! I am terrified of them and could not bear to see those jinn again. It is unlawful for us to have any dealings with them. The Prophet himself, may Allah's blessings be upon him, warned us against the jinn. Throw away the lamp!"_

         ~ Aladdin's mother_, Aladdin and the Enchanted Lamp,_

_            A Thousand and One Arabian Nights_

_"I like being a teacher. It's unusual in djinns—we have a natural propensity to trick and mislead your kind."_

         _~ The Djinn in the Nightingale's Eye_

_"Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike...... The fountain we destroyed tonight told a lie. We wizards have mistreated and abused our fellows for too long, and we are reaping our reward."_

         ~ Professor Dumbledore, _Harry Potter and the Order of the __Phoenix_

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

There was no escaping her. Hermione found Cesare in the hallway right before their Advanced Defense against the Dark Arts class, and jogged to catch up with him, her brown hair flying behind her shoulders in chestnut waves. As the headed down the stone corridor, she gave him pointers. She was very serious about her new project.

"Now since beating Malfoy to a bloody pulp------," she started

"I didn't beat him to a bloody pulp. You're exaggerating," he interrupted, his dark face looking defensive.

Hermione gave him a dubious glance. "Okay. Since beating Malfoy to the point where you caused blood and slight damage without the pulp-- the other Gryffindors probably like you. So all you have to do is encourage that feeling. Smile. Talk. Joke."

He scowled, "I have INTERACTED to other human beings in my lifetime, thank you very much. I know how to act."

She smiled. "You better. Your potions tutor is counting on it."

-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_

Harry and Ron ran down the fifth floor corridor towards the Defense against the Dark Arts room. "We're gonna be late!" Ron gasped. Harry nodded grimly, keeping a fast pace. Hopefully their new professor wouldn't be too upset. They started to sneak into the back of classroom, before noticing that Professor Almari wasn't even in the room. They took the desk right behind Hermione and Cesare.

Harry had been going to ask Ron what he thought Professor Almari would be like, but was completely distracted by the sight of Hermione and Cesare quietly whispering in front of them. Ron's mouth was hanging open.

"What.....what is she doing with _him?" he asked frantically._

Harry could only shake his head. "I have _no idea. Maybe he's threatening her?" Why else would Hermione be anywhere _near_ Cesare. Why, he'd practically murdered someone a few hours earlier!_

Ron looked very alarmed. "You think we should......."

Harry never got to hear what Ron thought because Professor Almari suddenly swept into the classroom. She came in a tinkle of jewelry, due to the many bangles she was wearing around her wrists and ankles. Harry's mind was suddenly focused up front on the Professor.

She was extremely beautiful, that's what one noticed first. She looked barely thirty, but for some reason Harry believed she was older. Her thick glossy black hair hung in waves, nearly to her waist. Her skin was a shimmering, flawless dark olive tone. She had very dark eyes and wore a lot of jewelry. She was dressed in baggy white and gold harem pants with a beaded top of the same color. Over that she wore a silk crimson robe. A sheer gold scarf hung over her shoulders and she wore sparkly gold sandals. Harry had _never seen a Professor dressed that way, as a matter of fact, he'd never _anyone_ dressed that way._

Her lips curved into a mysterious smile. "Good afternoon, class. I am Professor Mehrunnisa bint Jan Almari." Her eyes twinkled. "I realize that is a bit difficult, so you may simply call me Professor Almari. I will be your new Defense against the Dark Arts professor."

She waved her hand and her name appeared on the blackboard, in graceful script. "You may put your books away. You will mostly likely need them only for homework. I prefer to lecture and have your eyes up here, rather than stuck in a book you can read on you own time."

Her gaze drifted over to the small table Seamus and Dean were sharing. "Gentlemen? Not during class. Please put that away."

Dean looked shocked and shamefully slid his Quidditch magazine away in his school bag He'd been hiding it behind his desk. Ron's eyes widened and whispered under his breath to Harry. "How'd she see that? You think she has a—"

"Of course not, don't be foolish, Mr. Weasley," Professor Almari said pleasantly. Ron's jaw dropped open again. There was no way she could have heard him and even if she somehow did, he hadn't even finished his sentence.

"Now, my students, you have all been placed in this class because you have shown not only interest, but skill in the subject Defense against the Dark Arts. I regret to say that due to our current situation, this class may be one of the most important you ever take in your life."

She held her bejeweled hands behind her back and slowly paced in front of the classroom. "It is now an accepted fact that the Dark Lord is back. Yet to properly _defend_ yourselves against the Dark Arts, you have to _understand them first. This will be the subject matter for this class._

First off: Who practices the Dark Arts? The wizards and witches behind this type of magic. What sort of people are drawn to it? What kind of beliefs unite them? Our course will concentrate on this for the first couple of weeks."

She lectured for the rest of class, something Harry would have normally found extremely dull. But he found that her lecture kept him completely captivated and noticed as he looked around the classroom all the others students had looks of similar interests on their faces. Professor Almari spoke very passionately and seemed very knowledgeable about Dark wizards and what turned them to the Dark magic. By the end of lesson, it felt like time had literally flown by. 

"Class, please write an essay on the rise of Grindelwald and his followers. Not longer than a roll of parchment, if you mind. You are dismissed."

Harry put his notes and quill back in his bag. Ron started to eagerly whisper something as they turned to leave, but was interrupted by Professor Almari's cultured voice. 

"Mr. Potter? Excuse me, could I speak to you for a moment?" Harry felt his face fall. Surely he hadn't done anything wrong already? Ron looked at him, unsure if he should stay.

"Just a moment, I promise, Mr. Weasley," she said, her dark eyes twinkling. Ron took that as his cue to leave and Harry walked to Professor Almari's desk.

"Take a seat," she offered and with a wave of her hand, a small poof chair popped up besides him. He sat down and looked up at her unexpectedly.

"Harry, I'm not sure if you have heard this yet, but Professor Dumbledore wishes for you to continue learning Occlumency. I understand Professor Snape was teaching you last year, but he didn't prove very successful."

Harry's face tightened. _Well, yeah, Snape throwing me out of his office did inhibit my learning_, he thought sarcastically. And not learning Occlumency had had horrible consequences. He felt a small lump in his throat. "Er, yeah. There were some problems."

"Well, Professor Snape and I have very different teaching methods," she continued and Harry could swear she almost sneered when she said his name. Okay, he liked her already. Anyone who disliked Snape was more than okay in his mind.

"Dumbledore has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I'm a very skilled Occlumens and although it may at first prove harder to defend yourself against me than Professor Snape, my methods are much closer to the way the Dark Lord would attack your mind."

Harry was very curious about that. He wondered where she had learned that particular skill. But she seemed confidant enough that she could teach him well. He desperately wanted to learn Occlumency. The thought of what Voldemort could do if he broke into Harry's mind again terrified him. He didn't want to be responsible for more deaths.

"Okay, when do we start?" he asked.

She smiled, obviously pleased at his eagerness. "Actually, tonight would work out well. Can you be in my office, say, at seven?"

Wow, she was even asking him what time would be good for him. Snape simply ordered him to come at whatever time was convenient for the Potions master and inconvenient for him. Maybe this was a good sign. "Sounds good," he replied.

"Then I'll see you tonight. It was nice meeting you, Harry," she said and shook his hand, jangling all her bangles again.

Harry had time for a hasty explanation to Ron and quick bite to eat before he dashed off to Professor Almari's office right after dinner. He raised his hand to knock on the door and with a small smile noticed it had been replaced from last year, when the Weasley's brooms had made their mad escape to freedom with the twins from this same room.

"Come in," a voice said from inside. Harry stepped over the threshold and immediately noticed the office door wasn't the only thing that had changed. Gone were the awful Technicolor kittens, fake flowers, and tacky lacy doilies. In their place were vibrant silks and hanging embroidered tapestries in every color of the rainbow. The walls were covered in huge bright paintings and warm-colored fabrics. Thick, woven rugs and cushions covered the dark wood floor. A large old bookshelf and cabinet covered a good part of the wall, filled with book and all sorts of interesting objects that glittered down at him.

"Good evening, Harry." Professor Almari stood to greet him and then ushered him to take a seat in cozy bright turquoise armchair opposite her desk. She was silent for a minute and Harry could have sworn she looked slightly nervous.

"Harry, before we begin I believe there are some things you deserve to know before beginning Occlumency lessons with me. That's why I invited you here tonight right after dinner. What I have to tell you may take some time. Professor Dumbledore agreed that it was wise for me to talk with you. He has a lot a faith in you and believes you will keep this information to yourself. It is immensely important that you do so."

"Of course." Harry immediately agreed, very much interested in what she had to say. She was definitely anxious, he thought. The Defense against the Dark Arts teacher was drumming her long fingernails against the heavy desk in a repetitive manner.

"As you already know, Harry, I will have to break into your mind to teach you to defend yourself. This is a brash intrusion into your privacy, and I believe you have every right to know who exactly is doing the breaking in." She suddenly stood and paced behind the desk. She strode up to the bookshelf and pulled a heavy volume from one of the heavy shelves.

"Harry, have you ever heard of the jinn?" she asked, staring at him intently. He tried not to stare to blankly at her, hoping he didn't appear stupid. He obviously couldn't fool her because she continued. "Or you may know them by the anglicized name of the genie."

"Genies?" asked Harry, bewildered at the reference. "Like from......what's it called?" he asked himself out loud. The stories his second year grade school teacher used to tell his class when he was younger. A name suddenly sprang to mind. "Oh! Like in _The Arabian Nights_!" he said triumphantly.

An amused smile lit across her elegant face. "Yes, that is where most people know them from. Yet the jinn are not mere myths or legends. They are a real race of magical beings, not very unlike wizards."

"Wait, so you mean.......if you rub a magical lamp, a jinn will really come out of it and grant you three wishes?" He laughed. After all Harry had seen and experienced in the magical world, nothing should surprise him anymore.

She sat down again. "Oh, Malik's beard, no!* Well, not really," she corrected herself. "There are certain types of ancient magic which could be applied, but thankfully they have long been lost to wizarding kind."

Harry was confused. "Why is that such a bad thing? Couldn't wishes do some good?"

Her face darkened. "It means a life of slavery for the jinn. Forced to do anything and everything their master desires," she said distastefully.

"Oh, er....sorry," said Harry, feeling like a jerk. "So why don't we learn about them in school?" he asked. He'd never heard the jinn mentioned ever before.

She sighed deeply. "I'm sure you are aware of the long-standing bias and prejudices that many humans carry for different magical peoples. There is an entire study of magical beings: centaurs, merpeople, abatwa, goblins, trolls, jinn, vampires, barbagazi, hags, elves, werewolves........ the list goes on and on. This subject is avoided in virtually all wizarding schools. The International Confederation of Magical Education refuses to allow curriculum for such a class."

"But why?!" he burst out. "That's ridiculous! How can they just ignore all those other beings when we know nothing about them?"

Professor Almari looked grim. "Harry, why is Muggle Studies often scoffed at? For similar reasons of prejudice. Wizards and witches are unfortunately notorious for hating Muggles and believing they are superior to other magical being. It is simply a sad fact of history. Which brings me back to what I have to tell you, which I beg you not to reveal."

Harry nodded, still feeling resentful. He remembered the Fountain of Magical Brethren and what Dumbledore had told him about it. It was true. As much as he loved the wizarding world, it's people were far from perfect or right in their beliefs. "I understand. I won't say anything."

She studied him carefully. "I am considered a jinn. My mother was one. We number very, very few. It is considered nearly a death sentence for a person to be publicly known as a jinn. My mother was killed by a mob in front of my eyes when I was thirteen. My muggle father had told our village what she was."

Harry's bright emerald eyes widened in horror. "That's awful, I'm so sorry," he stammered out. What were you supposed to say about something like that?

She waved her hand. "Don't worry, it was nearly fifty years ago and I have recovered."

'Wait, what?' Harry thought to himself. That didn't add up. Nearly fifty years ago? Professor Almari wouldn't have even been born yet. His brows knit in confusion. "But Professor, how could that have been—,"

"Nearly half a century ago?" she finished his question, seemingly already reading his mind. There was a twinkle in her eyes. "How old do you think I am?" she asked, deftly hiding a smile.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. He'd heard women were very sensitive about this sort of thing. But his teacher didn't even look thirty.

"Twenty-eight?" he guessed.

She laughed out loud, but Harry didn't understand what was so funny. "I'm almost sixty-two, Harry," she said, with tears of laughter coming to her sparkling dark eyes.

"WHAT? That's impossible!" he declared.

"The blessing and the curse of the jinn, Mr. Potter. My own mother was six hundred and twenty-seven when she died, but didn't look a day over forty. Of course, she was a full-blooded jinn, and I'm merely a half. I'll not live nearly that long."

He looked at her with amazement in his eyes. "Wow. What else can the jinn do?" he asked eagerly.

"Well, we are extremely gifted in Divination, not unlike centaurs. Yet we do not read the stars, we hear their messages," said she, tapping her head with a manicured finger. "And we are naturals when it comes to Legilimency and Occlumency. That's why many humans don't trust us. They always think we are trying to trick them," she said slowly. "While the jinn, may not be very skilled at spells, we cannot go much beyond simple wand magic, our natural magic is immensely powerful. With a wave of our hands, we weld unimaginable riches and power." To demonstrate, she swept her hand quickly over the desk. Gold coins sprinkled from under her palm. She snapped her fingers and they disappeared in a small poof of smoke. "Now perhaps you can imagine why many people seek to either control or destroy my people."

Harry nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose. "So you're going to use jinn magic to teach me Occlumency," he asked anxiously.

She nodded. "But there is something else I must tell you before we begin." She looked more nervous than ever, her dark eyes staring determinately at the desk's smooth, polished surface. Finally she tore her gaze away and fixed Harry with the same look. It was slightly eerie. He wondered if she could tell what he was thinking.

"Harry, I was a......... a Death Eater. I turned spy soon after the Dark Lord's return and am now a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

He was floored. This was the last thing he expected from the beautiful, quixotic teacher sitting across from him. A Death Eater? Then with a sudden realization, his jaw dropped open. The spy! The woman with the black hair from Grimmauld Place who had reminded him of Bellatrix Lestrange. A thousand emotions tore through him. A spy. Like Snape he wondered?

"I remember you!" he blurted out. "From this summer. I saw you come in."

She looked slightly relieved that he hadn't gotten upset or run from the room screaming. "Yes. Yes, that was the night of my extraction. The Dark Lord learned the truth about me from........from another one of his followers," she said hesitantly, with a tone of pain in her smooth voice. She quickly masked it by asking, "How is Remus Lupin doing? The Order rushed me out of there before I could thank him for saving my life."

"He's good," said Harry quickly, not wanting to think about the werewolf or remember the screaming match they had gotten into in August. Well, to be fair to Lupin, it hadn't been much of a match. Mostly one-sided screaming by Harry. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind. "He saved your life?"

She smiled. "Yes, he came for me when he shouldn't have. I was followed by a group of Death Eaters and they separated me from the Order while we were fleeing. The Order could not risk the lives of the group just to get me. It is strictly against the rules. Yet Lupin refused to leave and came back for me. He is a very good, very brave man."

Harry felt uncomfortable. Guilt was starting to creep in at the edges of his mind. He studied a beautiful dazzling tapestry above Almari's head. Its glorious woven colors depicted a dusty camel caravan against glittering sand dunes. He was unable to meet her eyes. "Yes, yes he is."

Almari seemed to know exactly what was going through his mind. "Even adults make mistakes, Harry. They say things or do things they don't mean. Look at me. I have made truly horrible decisions in my life. I let my grief over my mother's death and my anger at the few Muggles and Muggle-borns who killed her take control of my mind, and I joined the Dark Lord's Death Eaters as a result. Grief can prove very dangerous."

He wished this conversation would end. It was unnerving enough to be in a room with a psychic jinn ex-Death Eater. Did she really have to lecture him about grief as well? Professor Almari was staring intently at him. Her dark eyes bored into his. He felt like she was penetrating his very soul. He noticed her eyes looked a little strange. Almost like they were reflecting firelight. But there were no candles lit, nor was a fire crackling merrily away in the fireplace. Her eyes seemed very black as well. Weird. Suddenly a memory from his first year popped into his mind. Flying a broom for the first time. _Odd_, why had he suddenly thought of that. And why was Almari still studying him like he was the most fascinating creature she'd ever met. "Why don't we get started," he muttered.

She broke her gaze away and looked amused. "We already have. The flying memory."

Harry was dumb-founded. "What?! How—you didn't even have to say Legilimens or anything."

"I know. A bit more challenging than with Professor Snape. Yet this will be better. The Dark Lord is unlikely to warn you before attacking your mind," she said darkly, her amusement fading away.

And he thought this would be better than Snape's lessons? This was going to be like trying to win a fistfight, blindfolded. "But how am I supposed to defend myself if I don't even know I'm being attacked?" He didn't understand how this was going to work.

"You will learn, Harry. You have been able to defend yourself before, you can do it again. This will simply take hard work and practice." Her voice was very gentle and he still found it hard to believe the kind woman speaking to him was a Death Eater. She couldn't have been any more different than Snape.

"Now let's try again. You have to almost build walls within yourself. Think your thoughts as if they were being spoken aloud in a large, public place. You would choose your words very carefully and speak softly if you did not want to be overheard. Review things rather than think on instinct. It will sharpen your mental defenses." She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. "Now let's try again."

Review my thoughts. I'm speaking out loud, he repeated to himself. He tried to imagine writing down his thoughts and selecting which ones he would say. A crazy image of him tapping his forehead with his wand and putting his thoughts in the homework notebook Hermione gave him struck him. But then that memory turned itself into the place where he received that notebook. Grimmauld Place. An image of Sirius at Christmas was quickly replaced by one of his godfather's look of shock as he tumbled through the veil........

A searing pain cut through him like a knife and then was suddenly gone. His head had hit the desk. Professor Almari was watching him with a look of deep concern. But her voice was calm as she spoke to him. "Harry, I know this will hurt. But you can do it. I know you can and you know you can. Now, try again." 

The memory of Sirius started to come back. No, no, Harry thought furiously. Decide what you will say, decide what you will think. He slowly forced the memory back into the recesses of his mind.

"Good! Good, you're doing it. Keep it up!" Almari urged him on.

A voice suddenly broke through. '_Bitty, baby Potter, did you love him?' Bellatrix cackled and rage surged through Harry. _'No! I WILL NOT LET YOU TORMENT ME!'_ He repealed Bellatrix's voice so hard that he felt like he had actually hit Professor Almari._

_"You're a traitor! You betrayed me! You betrayed us all! I hate you and I will never leave with you!" a teenaged girl's furious voice screamed at him. He caught a glimpse of a pretty girl with long black hair. She was yelling in a strange language Harry had never heard before, but somehow he understood her words. _

This vision was torn from his mind as his chair was suddenly thrown over. He found himself on his back, eyes blinking at the ceiling above. '_Ouch, touchy memory, anyone?' he thought, while scrambling to free himself from the over-turned armchair. He rolled out from the chair and onto a rug, dis-shelving his already messy black hair._

Professor Almari was at his side in a second. "Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize how hard I hit you with that memory." Her normally dark face had gone pale and he noticed that her hands were shaking. She grabbed his hand and helped him to his feet.

"I think we will call it quits for today, no?" she asked, going for a light tone, but missing it with her trembling voice. Her black brows were knit together with anxiety. Harry nodded, but his curiosity was already piqued. Why had that particular memory upset his teacher so much?

She walked him to the door. "I think you underestimated yourself, Harry. You have a very strong mind. Give yourself a little time and you will be a very skilled Occlumemnse." She opened the door for him. "Can we do this again on—" she abruptly stopped speaking, staring at something directly outside the office door.

Harry stepped under the door frame. The something turned out to be a someone. Snape was brooding in the hallway, a strange look on his sallow face. He looked even more displeased to see Harry standing there.

"Evening, Severus," said Professor Almari stiffly. Harry glanced up. Almari was wearing a funny, closed off expression on her face and fixing Snape with a rather unfriendly stare. It was unusual for teachers to greet one another like that.

He sneered at Harry. "So you ARE teaching Potter Occlumency. I wish you luck penetrating that boy's thick skull. He made almost no progress last year after _several_ months."

"That greatly surprises me. Harry has just the mind for Occlumency. He's already made some advances after one lesson. Strange. Well perhaps........maybe he simply needed a different teacher. Not better, no........of _COURSE not. Just....... different," she said silkily, her meaning quite clear. "Now can I help you with something or were you just admiring my door?"_

_'Nicely played, Almari_,' Harry thought, trying to keep from smiling at Snape's flustered visage.

Snape looked slightly taken aback, but quickly masked his feeling. "I believe we have some matters to discuss, Mehrunnisa," he said smoothly.

"Really? I wasn't aware of that," she shot back.

Snape kept his calm. "Oh, I assure you. We do." He looked at Harry as if he were some sort of unpleasant smell. "That means YOU can leave, Potter," he said nastily.

Professor Almari cut in before Harry could even manage a retort. "If you don't MIND, _Professor Snape_, I will dismiss MY students," she said icily. The hostility in the air between the two former Death Eaters was so thick it could have used a Severing Charm. They were glaring at each other with looks of similar loathing. He felt very uncomfortable, seeing as the two looked ready to hex the other and he was standing in between them.

Luckily, Professor Almari had not forgotten him. She turned to Harry and in a kinder voice, bid him good night. "I will see you Thursday night," she added. "Good work."

As Harry headed down the hall, he heard Snape mutter, "After you." Almari's cold voice followed. "If this is really _necessary........"_

-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-

Harry hurried back towards the common room. The sun had long set and it was nearly nine o'clock. The corridors were deserted and the tap of his shoes echoed off the castle walls. His mind was racing with all that he had learned and encountered. That had been two very intense hours. He was bursting to tell Hermione and Ron about what happened. Who could have imagined? Professor Almari? A Death Eater?

He burst into the warm common room, which was surprisingly pretty empty. He saw Ron cackling in the corner as he mercilessly destroyed a fourth year in wizarding chess. Harry's green eyes almost bugged out when he saw Hermione and Cesare at a low coffee table near the fireplace, sitting on the floor with their heads bent in concentration over scattered pieces of parchment and opened books. Again? Why were Hermione and Cesare so buddy-buddy all of a sudden?

He walked over to Ron. The red head looked up and smiled. "Oh, hey mate. Budge up, you. I've beat you six times already," he said to the fourth year, who looked greatly affronted, but left the seat. Harry quickly took it, with a raised brow at Ron.

"Y'know, not to go all Hermione on you, but should a prefect really be ordering other younger, IMPRESSIONABLE students to move?" he teased.

Ron laughed. "Yes. That's the best part of being an authority figure. So how was Occlumency with Professor Almari?"

"Very, very interesting. You won't believe what I have to tell you two. But I want to fill Hermione in at the same time. What is she doing over there with Cesare anyway?" He scowled.

Ron's face darkened. "I wish I knew. She's been hanging out with him all day. Correct me if I'm wrong. Isn't he the same person who ignored everyone for the past week, except to freak out at you for trying to help him and then the murder attempt on Malfoy. Not that smashing his face against the floor was such a horrible thing to do......"

Harry snorted. True, he had relished seeing Malfoy get what he deserved. But he found it more curious what Draco had been saying to Cesare to set him off like that. Something about Gryffindors, mudbloods, and betrayal. _Odd._

He watched Cesare and Hermione stand up, arguing quietly. Cesare looked exasperated and was waving a hand in the air to demonstrate something. Hermione was patiently shaking her head. Suddenly they both glanced over to where Ron and Harry were sitting.

Both boys quickly looked away. "As soon as we can get her away from me, I'm making her tell me what's going on," Ron declared.

"Scuse me," an accented voice politely asked. Ron jumped when he saw Cesare standing right behind him. 

"Do you PRACTICE sneaking up on people or something?" he demanded.

Ignoring Ron, Cesare approached Harry. Harry noticed the other student looked uncertain.

"Harry, I wish to apologize for my words last night. I believe I might have been a little too.....harsh. I was simply a bit stressed." His tone was apprehensive; wondering what Harry would say.

Harry was very surprised at the polite apology. Although he had more than a trace of suspicion that Hermione had somehow forced the new student to do this, he still appreciated the effort. "Yeah, I think I would have been a little freaked out too. Don't worry about it."

Although Ron was staring at Harry like he'd lost all the bones in his arm again, Harry thought he saw a trace of relief in Cesare's eyes. Then the Egyptian excused himself and with a pointed look at Hermione, went upstairs.

There was a small smile playing on Hermione's lips. Ron and Harry quickly joined her near the fire. There was an accusatory gleam in Ron's eyes that had nothing to do with the firelight. "Okay, Hermione. Explain. Now."

She feigned innocent. "What are you talking about?"

"You and the Malfoy Maimer? Why is he your new best friend all of the sudden?"

Hermione laughed and sunk back into the crimson armchair. "I really shouldn't tell you, but it's very funny." With that, she told them about her encounter with Cesare in the library and the deal they had struck; leaving out some of the more embarrassing points that would have made her blush again. 

Ron was horrified. "But why—why would you do that to yourself?! Now you have to spend more time with him!"

Harry had to confess he didn't understand her deal as well. 

Hermione was irritated. "What? You can't understand me wanting to help another student. I feel bad for him. He doesn't have any friends. Besides, he is really quite nice once he warms up to you. You'd like him, Harry. You two have a lot in common."

He didn't get to reply before Ron cut in again. In a scathing voice he demanded, "It's the accent, isn't it? Krum had an accent too."

Hermione threw up her hands. "Oh for Merlin's sake, Ron! I am simply trying to be nice! What don't you understand about that?!"

Harry jumped in before the two hexed each other. "Stop! Just leave it alone. Besides I need to tell you something that I found out during my Occlumency.........."

"About Professor Almari?" Hermione cut in. "She's a jinn, isn't she?"

Harry's mouth dropped open. He couldn't help gaping at her. Was HERMIONE studying Legilimency? He stammered, hardly able to make a coherent sentence. "How....how.....do you---"

She smiled smugly, her hypothesis proving correct. "It's quite simple. Her last name. bint Jan Almari. I thought it sounded vaguely familiar so I checked a book about Eastern magical beings I had. 'bint Jan' translates to 'daughter of Jan.'"

Harry looked blankly at her. "Is that supposed to mean something?"

She sighed in exasperation. "Yes! Honestly, don't you two ever READ anything?! Jan is the last prince of the Jinn. His followers were forcibly dispersed or killed during the Ottoman Empire, when the jinn were starting to be hunted down. Professor Binns told us this fourth year in History of Magic. Besides, even the other part of her last name, Almari, is a clue. It means 'from fire.' It's a common surname among the jinn."

"And you REMEMBER all that? Hermione.......that's......that's just not normal." Ron looked flabbergasted. "So what are these jinn things anyway?"

Harry kept silent, letting Hermione explain. He continued to be amazed by her wealth of knowledge. He felt a small twinge of guilt. He _had promised Professor Almari he would keep her secret safe, but Hermione had already stolen the words from his mouth. Besides, he knew she and Ron wouldn't say anything._

Hermione was explaining to a baffled Ron about the jinn. "They're beings made from fire. Supposedly they are nearly immortal. There's ancient magic that can be used to kill them, but only a skilled wizard would be able to do so. Wizards have been enslaving them in lamp and bottles and all sorts of things for ages. That's why there's hardly any left, and the ones who are still around keep to themselves."

"But—but why would anyone want to enslave them?" Ron asked, looking wide-eyed.

"Because they're immensely powerful. A jinn can give its master riches and desires that even a powerful wizard would not be able to procure for themselves. And once they become enslaved, they have no choice, but to do what they're ordered."

"That's awful........." Ron looked sick.

 Hermione quickly took advantage of this opportunity. "It's not much different than what WE do to house-elves. You still think S.P.E.W. is such a bad idea?" she snapped.

"Yeah, well house elves like---" Ron started to shoot back at her.

"NO! Not again, for the love of Merlin," Harry said quickly. Could they EVER stop fighting? It was becoming ridiculous. "I need to tell you something else about her." He quickly filled them in on the rest of his lesson, including the strange encounter he'd witnessed between the two former spies.

Ron's eyes were now wide as saucers as he took in all that Harry told them. "Wow," he whispered. "She was Death Eater? Doesn't seem like it." He whistled slowly through his teeth.

Hermione was similarly shocked. "So she was the spy they talked about this summer. Interesting. I wonder why she doesn't get along with Snape. You'd figure they would have a lot in common. But I can understand why she told you not to tell anyone about her being a jinn."

"Yeah, from what she told me, I get the feeling that they're pretty unpopular. She said it's practically a death sentence to be publicly known as one."

"That's horrible that we're not allowed to study other magical beings. I can't believe none of the Ministries will let us. That's so ignorant."

Ron looked thoughtful. "I dunno. I mean, would you really want to have a whole class dedicated to learning about house-elves."

Hermione flew into a rage at the mention of house elves again. "Ron! I can't believe you said that! Do you have ANY feelings for others?"

"Not for former Death Eaters, I don't!" Ron yelled and then quickly glanced around the common room, realizing how loud he'd said that. But luckily for him, the Gryffindor common room was empty except for the trio in front of the glittering fireplace.

"If Dumbledore trusts her........" Hermione started.

"Yeah, well, Dumbledore trusts Snape too, doesn't he? And we've always suspected that slimy git of being less than honest!" Hermione and Ron had both risen to their feet and their faces were very close, screaming at each other.

"You're always like this! You never trust anyone! You were immediately suspicious of the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang! You scoffed when the Sorting Hat said all the houses had to band together. What is your—!"

"ENOUGH!" Harry stepped in between them, his emerald eyes blazing. He glared at his two best friends. He couldn't STAND this constant bickering. What was WRONG with the two of them? They couldn't even have a conversation. "Look, Ron. I trust Professor Almari so far. She didn't have to tell me about her past, but she did. Let's leave it at that for now. It's not like I'm suddenly going to let my guard down around her." _'No, she'll only be breaking into your mind,' he thought. Then a truly horrible thought occurred to him. It hit him like a Bludger in the stomach._

The prophecy. If he knew about the prophecy and Voldemort could still break into his mind......... There stood a very good chance Voldemort could learn about the prophecy.

'Neither can live while the other survives.......' Professor Trelawney's dull monotone echoed through his head. Dear Merlin! If Voldemort knew the rest of the prophecy, he'd try to kill Harry even sooner. He'd do anything to kill Harry before he came after him.

Harry's worried eyes quickly flickered to his friends' faces. Voldemort and his Death Eaters knew about them now. They had fought with them last June. Harry felt like he was going to be sick. Voldemort had successfully used the ruse of torturing Sirius to get Harry to the Department of Ministries. He knew how to play him well. Would he target his friends next? He could not stand the thought of being the reason more people he loved were killed.

"Harry? Harry? What's wrong?" Hermione's worried voice cut through his terrifying fears. He then realized he was unconsciously rubbing his scar and had gone very pale.

"Hey, mate. Are you okay?" Ron asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. The argument between Hermione and Ron had disappeared at the sign of Harry's distress.

He stared into the concerned faces of his two best friends. The two people he cared about most in the world. How could he tell them? That he was destined to be murdered or murderer? That if Voldemort ever found this out, the danger would increase tenfold. That their very lives were in danger simply because he loved them.

He couldn't. He didn't want to see the looks of mingled horror in fear in their faces. To hear the terror in Hermione's quaking voice when she offered to do anything to help him defeat Voldemort. He didn't want to hear Ron grim demand to stand by his side in the battle.

"Nothing," he forced out. "Just got a little dizzy. Probably from Occlumency. I think I'm going to go lie down."

Hermione and Ron watched his retreating figure head up the stairs with looks of disbelief written across their features. 

"You get the feeling he's not telling us something?" asked Ron.

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Yes, he is definitely keeping something from us."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That rotten Harry, keeping things from his friends....... _::__crowd of Harry lovers appear, staring menacingly at corridore::_

Wait, wait it was a joke! I love Harry! Really!

-_~ Author's Note ~_- another long one, sorry!

Thanks for reading my story! You guys make my day!

Please, please review! I only have six reviews, and as much as I love writing this story, I also have two jobs right now. My updates will be very rare if I don't get some more reviews. Please!

-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-*-_-

Jinn: Time to add some Arabian spice into the Harry Potter world! Lol, I'm a huge fan of the _Arabian Nights_ and I wanted to use some mythology from the rest of the world. I prefer to use the other spelling, djinn, but I figured jinn was a little easier for the English speaking crowd. And that crowd is my entire audience, lol. Whom I love by the way! So please don't yell at me for forgetting the "d." Another thing, I used common mythology about the jinn, not the Koran's interpretation. Lol, I figured I'd keep this secular. So I'm not trying to convert or distort or do anything with religions here. I love everybody equally!

If you would like to know anything else about the jinn or the other creatures I listed, check out . This is a really interesting site of common mythological creatures. It's a GREAT tool for you authors out there or for anyone else just interested in seeing what J.K.Rowling based some of here creatures off of. They have boggarts, hippogryphs, fire salamanders, red caps, dragons, all that good stuff. It's very entertaining to read.

Malik's beard: Malik Katshan is the legendary king of all the jinn. So I figured it would be an interesting play on the much beloved Merlin's beard. 

Huge thanks to those who reviewed! You have no idea how much I appreciate this.

Carina: My beta and friend, you're the best

HogwartsHottie

T.H.: T.H.W. now, no? lol, yeah this new naming thing is weird. Thanks so much for your review and encouragement!


	10. The Graphorn Surprise

Disclaimer: All HP stuff except the stuff I made up belongs to the literary prowess of j.k.rowling. trust me, if I owned hp, I would be writing this on a much nicer computer! Lol

Chapter Nine

The Graphorn Surprise

"We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"

~ Ron, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next two weeks flew by in a blur of classes and increasingly heavier loads of homework. No wonder students didn't take that many N.E.W.T. preparatory classes. They were longer than usual, much harder, and a LOT more work.

At breakfast that morning, Harry and Ron spoke about the upcoming Quidditch season. Harry had held try-outs yesterday. As expected, Ginny was an excellent Chaser. The other Chaser was now Asad Ademi. The Nigerian student proved to be an amazingly speedy flyer and Harry was happily surprised at his new set of Chasers. However, he still needed one Beater. Dean had been the only one who had even shown up last night for the position. Harry was very anxious. What if no one in Gryffindor wanted to be a Beater? 

Harry looked at his toast worriedly. "I've asked everyone I know who can play that position. I don't know what to do! We play Ravenclaw on Friday!"

Ron looked just as desperate. "We have a big problem, Captain. He searched the face of the other Gryffindors. "Hmm, who would be a good Beater ....?" His eyes stopped on a face. "Well, how about if they seemed to be a good 'human' beater?" he asked.

Harry looked at who Ron was pointing to. "Cesare? He had a pretty good swing when it came to bloodying up Malfoy," he said with a smirk. "You think he'd play?"

Ron shrugged. "What do we have to lose? We DO need somebody soon. As much as it pains me to ask him," he muttered.

Harry frowned slightly. He'd been talking and spending more time with Cesare these past two weeks. (He suspected because Hermione forced the exchange student too, but still.) He had to admit she was right; he did have a lot in common with him. He was actually very interesting and funny to talk to. But Ron most definitely did not share this opinion. He was still very cold around Cesare. It surprised him that his best friend even mentioned him as a possible Beater. It showed how much he shared Harry's concern about the Quidditch team. "Yeah, true. Okay, I'll ask him in Creatures." They finished their breakfast and trudged up to Charms.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Cesare! Hey, wait up!"

The dark-haired boy stopped on the stairs leading down to the grounds and turned his head to look at who called his name.

Harry jogged to catch up and the two boys kept walking. "I have an interesting proposition for you," he joked.

"What?" Cesare asked guardedly.

"Play any Quidditch?"

"Of course, who doesn't" he laughed.

Harry thought all the problems he had getting people for his team and said, "You'd be surprised. Anyway, you wouldn't happen to be a fair Beater, would you?"

"I'm okay; I used to play for my team before..........well before they threw me off." He scowled.

"Why did they throw you off the team?" he asked curiously.

Cesare looked a little embarrassed and kept his gaze determined forward, away from Harry's view. "My captain decided my idea of fair play didn't coincide with his."

"Why not?"

"I thought it perfectly acceptable to break my bat over the opposing Beater's head. He, along with many others, including the headmaster, disagreed."

Harry fought to hide his bemused smile. "Should I even bother to ask why you did that?"

"No, I wouldn't give you a straight answer anyway," he replied honestly. "So how did you guess I was a Beater?"

"Your swing at Malfoy. Seemed natural."

"Oh, yeah. Forgot about that," he said with an amused smile.

Harry looked at him seriously. "Would you consider joining the Gryffindor team?"

Cesare was slightly take aback by the offer, but didn't let his face betray his thoughts. He considered the option. Getting involved in a school activity wouldn't exactly fit in with his original plan of just burying himself in studying, ignoring the other students, and hoping the year passed quickly. But then again, a lot of things he was doing lately (courtesy of Hermione's deal) were ruining that plan. And he was surprised to notice that he didn't really mind. He had never had any close friends. His closest relationship was the strained, abusive one he had with his uncle. Vincenzo had always told Cesare no one would want to be friends with him, and he had been quite the loner at Anksenum. Maybe the best way to prove his uncle wrong was to settle in at Hogwarts. He was amused by this_. 'You're acting like a normal sixteen year old wizard for once, Cesare. Why don't you find out where it leads?'_

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" he agreed.

Harry looked like he could have kissed his feet. "Great, 'cause you have no _IDEA_ how badly we need another player."

They reached Hagrid's hut then and joined Hermione and Ron. Ron looked at Harry expectantly. Harry nodded affirmatively and Ron smiled. "Welcome to the team, Cesare," he said, forcing a friendly tone into his voice.

At that moment, Hagrid burst around the corner of his hut, pulling along what appeared to be a huge grayish purple goat. It had two very long, sharp horns on its head and instead of hooves, it walked on four toes. Hagrid had a huge smile on his face which contrasted to angry, fierce expression of the goat, er, monster-thing.

"Hullo, class. Nice ta see ya. Now, can any ya tell me what this her' is?" he looked around expectantly at the mixed crowd of Slytherins and Gryffindors. 

Hermione raised her hand. "It's a Graphorn. They're native to Europe and are often tamed by mountain trolls. The horns can be crushed and are very valuable."

Hagrid beamed. "Good job, 'Ermione. Five points ta Gryffindor. Now, what we wanna do terday is practice getting some of that there powder. Ya see, the Graphorns sweat the powder off their horns. What yer got to do is approach them careful-like. Don't make sudden movements or look em in dey eyes. They hate that. They also especially hate loud noises. Scares 'em something terrible."

Hagrid's words were ominously followed by a huge crack from the forest, probably a dead tree falling. The graphorn jumped forward at the sound and reared its legs dangerously close to Ron's head. The sudden jerk on the rope made Hagrid lose his grip on the rope and fall backwards into the water trough used by several of his creatures.

Ron looked like he had been Petrified, but Harry quickly pulled him back towards Hermione and Cesare. The entire class hurried back, as the graphorn charged forward. It seemed to have taken an immediate disliking to Ron and moved to attack him again. Then a most curious thing happened. The graphorn stopped, inches away from Ron's face. If the creature could feel terror, it did. With a fearful high pitched whine it jumped back and eyed Ron's direction with what appeared to be horror. It whimpered as it crept back behind Hagrid's massive form. The shocked Care of Magical Creatures teacher quickly grabbed its tether again, and shook water from his bushy hair.

Harry wiped his hands on his robe and then helped Ron up; who still looked petrified. "Good to know Hagrid's class hasn't changed much," he muttered. Hermione tried not to snicker, out of respect for Hagrid. 

Hagrid was staring wide-eyed at Ron. "What did ya do, boy, ta get 'im to back off like that?"

Ron grew furious. "What did I do?! It attacked me! Crazy, bloody------monster!"

"Ron!" Hermione reprimanded. Honestly, his language was really too much at times.

Hagrid didn't look convinced. "You scared 'im. Takes a lot to scare these creatures. Don't know how ya could 'ave......." his voice trailed off as he noticed Cesare for the first time, brushing dirt off his arm, while standing directly behind Ron.

"Shoulda known. Yer dad......same thing woulda happened....." he muttered under his breath. His voice was so low that only the four of them were able to hear it.

Cesare's eyes lit up in curiosity at the mention of his father. "What did you say?"

In typical fashion, Hagrid appeared to realize his mistake too late. "Nothin. Shouldn' have toll ya that. Just mind my business now, I will. Class, back her'e now. It's safe." He proceeded with the class as well as possible, although most of the class had no desire to get closer to the now docile graphorn.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"That was unbelievable," Hermione gushed as she and Ron walked away. "That graphorn couldn't have been three inches away from your face at the most!"

"And your concern for my safety is touching," Ron said sarcastically. She hid a smile. "You think we should wait for Harry and Cesare?"

"Nah, they'll be along in a minute."

~-~

Harry followed Cesare back to the common room. The other boy was quiet now and appeared to be lost in his thoughts.

"So, I guess Hagrid knew your dad then?" he inquired carefully.

Cesare's head whipped angrily around to face Harry, and Harry tensed. But then his features softened slightly and he appeared to be resigned to forfeiting this information.

"I.....I guess so. He went to Hogwart's when he was younger. I think most of the staff knew him, but they have been told to say nothing to me."

Harry was curious. "What happened to him? You live with your uncle now, don't you?"

Cesare paused, and fought the urge to bite his lip to keep himself from telling Harry anymore. "I don't really know," he admitted. "My uncle hates him and the subject is forbidden around him."

Harry gave him a sympathetic look. "That's how my aunt and uncle are. They hate my parents and anything magical, in general."

Cesare looked surprised at this bit of information and realization that he had something very much in common with Harry. "Really?"

"Really," Harry told him about the Dursley's. His brown eyes grew wider with each story and they were both laughing as the reached the staircase.

"His tongue grew bigger than his head? Truly? That would have been very funny to see," Cesare laughed and Harry grinned at the memory of Fred and George's infamous Ton Tongue Toffee.

"I can understand why your family is probably afraid of magic. They think you will turn them into pigs again, no?" 

"Well, your uncle doesn't sound like a picnic either," Harry noted.

Some of the amusement left Cesare's face. "No," he said quietly and remained silent for the few minutes it took to near Gryffindor dormitory.

Harry was persistent. "Why don't you tell me more about what's really going on? I'd really like to help you."

Cesare stopped in front of the portrait of Fat Lady and stared at Harry, trying to decipher any dishonestly in his earnest face. He couldn't understand why this boy would want to help him. He didn't understand why he even bothered to talk to Cesare when he had some many other kind friends just like him.

"Why?" he asked simply. 

Harry shrugged. "You're probably going to think I'm mad if I tell you this."

"Tell me what?" Cesare insisted.

"For some really odd reason, I have the strangest feeling I've met you before."

"You're right. I do think that's mad. The first time I ever set foot north of Italy was that day in Diagon Alley. And unless you've been vacationing in Cairo, I sincerely doubt we've met."

Harry shook his head. "Nope, no Egyptian holidays for me. But you still look very familiar. Hermione has said the same thing. Besides, I've been in your situation. I still am in a way. There's so little I know about my parents and myself. But others helped me learn about them."

Cesare looked strangely vulnerable. He was usually quite adept at hiding his emotions, but what Harry had offered was something he so desperately wanted. To learn more about his parents. It was as if someone had snatched his heart from his chest. Emotion shadowed his eyes and he opened his mouth. "I......."

He was cut off suddenly by the portrait swinging open to reveal an agitated Ron. There was a dark look in his eyes and his jaw was set in a grim line. "There you are, Harry. I think there's something that you should see." He pushed the portrait open wider so that they could enter.

Harry glanced over at Cesare. He had quickly shut his mouth and the mask of inscrutability had slid over his features once more. Harry had lost his opportunity for today. With a sigh, he looked up towards Ron and followed his friend to the common room.

Hermione was standing there, clutching a copy of Daily Prophet in her hands. Harry was startled by how pale her face was. She looked like she was going to be sick. Her eyes were very big and dark. She handed the paper to Harry as he approached, concerned at her appearance.

"Harry, I.......I thought you should know. It's a Daily Prophet news alert." Her voice quaked slightly in what sounded like anger. "Lucius Malfoy has been pardoned."

-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-~*~-_-

-_~ Author's Note ~_-

I'm sorry this chapter is so short. This week has been very, very busy. I know my quote in the beginning wasn't my best either, lol. But I wanted to update tonight since I probably won't we able to write at all for the next two days. The next chapter will be longer, I promise. And hopefully a bit more suspenseful!

Please review! Remember, more reviews means more chapters soon!

Huge thanks to my few reviewers, lol

T.H. ~ Thank you SO much, your encouragement and advice have really helped me. I wish I could email you, because I always want to ask you questions, lol. Like about the time you update. What time zone do you live in? I think that might be part of my problem with getting readers. You said 11:00, but I wasn't sure what time zone that was. I did the italics with the thoughts in this chapter, lol. Once again, thanks for your reviews. You have no idea how much they mean to mean. I'd be interested in your opinion on my chapter 8: the Jinn. The idea of using djinni in Harry Potter's world was something I always wanted to do. Thanks again!

Carina ~ Thanks for your reviews, friendship, beta-reading, and for being a damn fine writer yourself!

Linaevial ~ Thanks so much! Well, I'm not sure if he's who you're thinking of. Let me read your mind and I'll get back to you on that.

HogwartsHottie ~ Thanks!


	11. Family of Bad Faith

Disclaimer: No, I don't really own Harry Potter. JK Rowling does. And if Warner Bros tried to sue me, I'll make like a Bedouin and disappear into the desert. ;)

Chapter Ten

Family of Bad Faith

_"It is our choices Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."_  
~Dumbledore, _Harry Potter and the something Corridore doesn't feel like looking up._

_"Leave?" Sirius smiled bitterly and ran a hand through his long, unkempt hair. "Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal.....my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them......" _~ Sirius Black, _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_

_"Does it matter that she's my cousin?" snapped Sirius. "As far as I'm concerned, they're not my family. She's certainly not my family. I haven't seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming into Azkaban. D'you think I'm proud of having relatives like her?" _~ Sirius Black, _Harry Potter and the Order of the __Phoenix___

-_~_-_~_-_~_-_~_-_~_-_~_-_~_-_~_-_~_-_~_-_~_-_~_-_~_-_~_

Harry ripped the paper from her outstretched hands, which were quaking with anger.

"WHAT?" he demanded in disbelief.

Hermione's voice was shaking as well. "He.......he turned himself in, saying he had been put under the Imperius Curse. And Fudge.............Fudge PARDONED him." Her own voice echoed his shock.

He quickly brought the article up to his eyes and read.

_The Daily Prophet learned that late this afternoon Mr. Lucius Malfoy of the prestigious Malfoy family turned himself into the Magical Law Enforcement Agency. After pleading innocence under the Imperius Curse, Mr. Malfoy was granted a rare pardon by Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, which absolved him of all guilt associated with his actions from June onward. Mr. Malfoy was widely believed to be one of the Death Eaters who, along with You-Know-Who himself broke into the Ministry of Magic a few months earlier. Lucius Malfoy was charged and placed in Azkaban prior to his trial. He and many others broke out in late July. Mr. Malfoy's wife Narcissa and son Draco were said to be extremely exuberant at the news. "It's just such a wonderful feeling to have him at home again after his ordeal," sighed Mrs. Malfoy. Other weren't so thrilled at the news, particularly many representatives in the International Confederation of Wizards. The British Ministry of Magic currently holds the leading position in the Confederation and while many countries side with Fudge, a good number are starting to splinter off and protest at what they claim is "inaction on the part of Fudge to counter You-Know-Who from the beginning." Spanish Minister of Magic Alfonso Nuegu_ía seems to be the speaker for this group, which is fighting to give international Aurors more power to fight You-Know-Who and his group of dark wizards. Nuegu___ía has also argued the Fudge should be relieved of his position and Hogwart's Headmaster Albus Dumbledore given full rein over the British Ministry of Magic. However, the Daily Prophet has recently learned of Mr. Nuegu_ía's long history of consorting with werewolves. It is also believed he did nothing when Grindelwald........ __

The rest of the article seemed to simply spout as much unsavory information as possible about Nueguía and the other ambassadors who were criticizing Fudge. There was a large picture of a smiling Malfoy family in front of their estate. Harry threw the paper to the floor and scowled. "The Imperius Curse? More like he paid Fudge off." he said, completely disgusted.

"Bloody Hell! I can't believe they just let him go! He's a Death Eater! He attacked us!" Ron shouted, oblivious to the curious stares that were slowly turning their way.

Harry actually felt physically ill at the thought of a free Lucius Malfoy. _'After everything he did.........'_ he thought. To just be pardoned like nothing happened. Like no one had DIED. "Excuse me," he muttered, suddenly not wanting to be around people. He started to head upstairs.

"Harry............." he heard Hermione call him, but he ignored her. He reached his dormitory and flopped himself on his bed. He stared up at the crimson canopy without seeing it. Lucius Malfoy's Death Eater's mask filled his vision. That night.......that horrible, terrible night.........

"Harry?" an uncertain, accented voiced asked from near the doorway. Harry looked up and saw Cesare standing just outside the room. He ran a hand through his jet black hair, looking uncomfortable.

"Is it true? That Lucius Malfoy is now free? I tried to read the article, but your friend Ron wanted it." He shrugged as he entered the room and sat cross-legged on the bed across from Harry.

Harry sighed and pulled himself upright to talk to Cesare. He wasn't in the mood for conversation, but didn't want to lose what little trust Cesare might have for him, by snapping at the exchange student. "Yeah, Fudge pardoned him," he said irritably.

Cesare's brown eyes mirrored his surprise. "But how can your Minister do such a thing? Lucius Malfoy not a Death Eater? _Come ridicolo, ciò non è possibile_!" 

"Er, yes........." Harry said, slightly bewildered by whatever it was that Cesare had exclaimed. "Well money and promises of power go a long way with Fudge."

"He should be eaten by a manticore," Cesare declared, completely serious.

Harry had to stifle the urge to snicker. "Well, we can only hope."

"Lucius Malfoy should not be free," Cesare said darkly. He jumped to his feet and paced towards the window. Harry watched him curiously. He was muttering and appeared to be wrapped up in his own thoughts.

"You seem to be awfully concerned about this. What do you know of Lucius Malfoy anyway?" he asked, trying to keep an accusing tone out of his voice.

Cesare quickly broke his gaze out the window and turned to look at Harry. But he couldn't meet his eyes. Still staring at the richly carpeted floor, he muttered. "He is a friend of my uncle's."

Harry felt his eyebrows rise in a questioning manner. "Oh really? So what does that make your uncle?"

"My uncle supports Lord Voldemort, if that is what you are asking," Cesare replied, rather snappishly.

But something else had struck Harry about that statement. "What did you just say?"

Cesare narrowed his eyes. "I said my uncle supports Lord Voldemort—"

"That's it. You said his name. Very few people I know will say his name," Harry said, slightly awestruck. If Cesare had grown up in a wizarding family, particularly a DARK wizarding family, he would have been taught never to use Voldemort's real name.

He shrugged. "I learned from an early age how to irritate my uncle. Saying Voldemort instead of the Dark Lord was an excellent way," he said delicately.

"And how about YOU, Cesare? Do YOU share your family's beliefs?" Harry demanded, feeling like a git for being so pushy, but also feeling like he had to know the truth.

Cesare's eyes met his and Harry though he saw something stir beneath their light brown depths. Then his face went back to being an inscrutable mask again. "Do you hold the same ideas as your Muggle family, Harry?" he asked quietly.

"Of course not! That would be ridiculous. After all, they hate magic and I'm a wizard!" Harry exclaimed, and then realized he had just fallen into Cesare's trap.

"Of course not," Cesare echoed. "Are we always what our families want us to be?" he asked softly. He seemed to be asking the question more to himself than to Harry. "Hermione wished to speak with you downstairs," he said abruptly and swept out of the room.

Harry felt like smacking himself across the face. It had been pretty hypocritical of him to think that just because Cesare's family might be dark wizards, he would be just like them. Thoughts of Sirius came unbidden, like sharp claws that dug at his heart. Hadn't Sirius hailed from a family that thought Voldemort was like bright morning sunshine after a dark monsoon night? Yet Sirius had been completely different. He had been kind and completely free of any pure-blood prejudice. It was possible that Cesare's situation was similar to Sirius's.

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

Halloween passed by quickly as Hogwarts students got heaped down with more homework. Harry had trouble finding a spare moment to think between homework, Occlumency lessons, and Quidditch. Most of all he felt completely controlled by Quidditch. Although he loved being team captain, it made him a little worried to be responsible for the whole team. No wonder Wood had been slightly obsessive. Harry was pretty sure his team thought he was the same way. He had heard Ron loudly complaining to one of the Chasers about having to wake up at five o'clock. Harry didn't understand why he would be that upset. They needed the practice! Although maybe the four AM practice had been a little much .........

But nevertheless, they were a great team. The Chasers were superb and Ron seemed to have a bit more confidence this time around when it came to Keeping. Dean and Cesare were very good Beaters as well. Even if Dean had to quickly intervene to stop Cesare from breaking his bat over the head of the Ravenclaw Beater. Gryffindor still steamrolled Ravenclaw in the first game of the season 160-30.

Hermione had already started studying for midyear exams, to the disbelief of her friends. Ron had tried to physically take the book away from her, protesting that "It's only November!" Hermione had screamed something about how hard N.E.W.T. midterm tests were and then hexed him with a tickling curse that left him writhing on the floor. The rest of the Gryffindors had wisely not touched her books since then.

Cesare had still remained slightly aloof, although he would often spend time with Harry and his friends. He was occasionally missing and claimed that he had been studying. Hermione didn't believe him though. He rarely did any work for most classes, yet still excelled. Potions was the only exception, although with her help, both he and Harry were muddling through. Snape's hatred only seemed to increase with time. He clenched his fists when he saw Harry and Cesare talking, as if they were planning on taking over the world. However one day he had gotten what was coming to him.

Snape had the class working alone to produce a Floating Potion and had gone into his office and closed the door. He had only been in there a few minutes, when the class heard a muffled scream. Snape burst out of the room, followed at the heels by what seemed like at least fifty snapping, snarling rats. But they weren't ordinary rats. They appeared to have been bewitched with an Engorgement Charm because they were each the size of a small dog. The entire had started yelling, jumping out of their seats and onto desks. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione had noticed Cesare lean inconspicuously against his cauldron. The cauldron, full of completed potion, crashed to the floor and splattered most of the rat swarm. Yells turned to terrified screams as giant rats floated and zoomed across the dungeon's musty air. Despite Snape's orders to stay put, the class fled. 

Hermione had confronted Cesare about it later and he had looked blankly at her.

"But I SAW you, Che! C'mon, fess up. Snape deserved it anyway."

He had shaken his head and given her a strange look. "Hermione, Hermione. Perhaps you THOUGHT you saw me do it on purpose. It was just an accident. Lost my balance," he said with a nasty grin.

His calm words had unsettled her. If it had been just a joke, why wasn't he sharing it with her? "You're a very good liar, Cesare."

"Why, thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment." She had given him a dirty look and walked away, feeling his eyes on her back. As much as she liked him, she was still slightly uneasy around him. He wore a dangerous, seductive aura around him. Even his kind words couldn't hide that. She noticed the dark shadows in his eyes and the calculating gaze he wore when he was upset or looked at Snape. 

Her feelings deeply confused her. She couldn't deny that fact that she liked him, perhaps even more than a friend. But why did she still feel slightly scared of him?

            _~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

On the first weekend of December, Harry and his friends had planned to visit Hogsmeade to do their Christmas shopping. After a warm tankard of butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, Harry and Ron had left Hermione and Cesare, arranging to meet back in an hour. Hermione smiled as they left. She had a suspicious feeling they were going to buy her Christmas present, but she didn't say anything. Instead she volunteered to show Cesare, who had never been to the village, around Hogsmeade. Their first stop had been Zonko's, where he had spent a good deal of his money.

Hermione expressed her surprise as they were walking towards the Shrieking Shack. "You don't strike me as the prankster type."

"You'd be surprised," he laughed and then pulled his cloak tighter. Hermione stifled the urge to laugh. How he HATED the weather in Scotland.

"Oh, are we finally admitting to terrorizing Professor Snape with floating rats?" she mocked.

"Come, now. You are not still angry about that?"

"So you do admit it?"

He stopped as they reached the haunted shack and turned towards her. "Fine, okay. I admit my terrible wrongdoing. But it was bloody brilliant," he said, affecting her accent. "Planned it for a month. It's very difficult to find and then hide fifty rats, you know."

Her eyes widened. "Che, that was very dangerous. You really scared a lot of people. Someone could have been hurt."

"But they weren't. It was rats, Hermione, not dragons. Relax, _carina_."

She started to protest, but he smiled at her concern and she felt her heart melt. Damn his smile. It made her feel like Lavender and Parvati giggling over Firenze or Harry. He stepped closer to her and she backed against the wall of the Shrieking Shack. 

"Always so worried about others. Let them deal with it," he joked, pushing a lock of black hair out of his eyes.

"That's pretty selfish," she shot back. 

"You think I'm selfish?" His brown eyes seemed to reading right through her, but she couldn't decipher his feelings in his closed-off face. 

Hermione let go of a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his stare. His face was inches from hers. "No ....... actually I don't. I don't think you care much about yourself at all. Or about anything else. Or ....." she hesitated. "Or about how people treat you. You're indifferent to the world," she finished, remembering the bruises on his face and arm the first week of school.

His gaze turned darker, but that was the only thing that changed in his calm face. He understood exactly what she was talking about, but chose to ignore it. Instead, he looked at his watch. "We should get going. We have to meet Harry and Ron in a few minutes." He abruptly turned around and started back towards the village.

 "Cesare..... things will get worse if you don't do something....." she started to say more, but he had continued walking. With a frustrated sigh, she followed him.

Unknown to the both of them, a figure stepped out from behind the shack. His combed blond hair shook slightly in the wind as he watched them walk back to the village. 

"This could be a problem," he said softly to himself.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There was a pleasant surprise before Christmas. McGonagall held a meeting for all those students who had made it through her preparatory training for becoming Animagi. A surprising number of Gryffindors had the initial ability to pass the rigorous tests she had put them through. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Cesare, and surprisingly Neville would all start training after the holidays. Professor McGonagall warned them that they had not even started the hardest steps yet and it was quite likely that none of them would accomplish becoming Animagi. Her warning had little effect on their optimism, however.

They left her class eagerly discussing what animals they might become. Harry was probably more excited than any of them. He felt as if this was another connection to the Marauders. His father and his friends had done this, now Harry and his friends were about to try as well.

"So what sort of things do you think we'll do in the beginning of training?" asked Hermione anxiously. "Oh, I hope I do well!"

"I am sure you will do fine, Hermione," Cesare tried to assure her. He had a strange look on his face, as if he was trying hard not to smile.

"You don't seem very excited at the prospect of becoming an Animagus," she noted. He looked at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You might be surprised," he mused.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

The last Potions class before Christmas break proved to be the longest yet. Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood. Apparently he hadn't heard of Christmas cheer. The class practically raced to the door when the lesson was over.

"Can you believe that slimy git!? It's Christmas! When does he want us to do all this homework?!" 

Hermione sighed sympathetically. They were halfway to their next class when Harry noticed Cesare wasn't with them. He looked at Hermione puzzled. "Where's Che? He didn't get lost again?"

She shook her head. "Snape held him after class. Apparently something to do with Snape's office flooding last week."

Ron had joined them in the hallway on their way to Charms. "Oooo, that'll be a painful detention," he winced at the thought.

            _~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

Cesare didn't leave Snape's class too late. After establishing that Snape didn't have anything conclusive to pin him to the mean-spirited flooding, ("Just AWFUL, Professor, sir. How unfortunate, HOW sad that a student would be that callous. Have you asked Draco, sir? I think he may be feeling frustrated lately," he lamented, while Snape resisted the urge to strangle him), he had left, trying to get to his next class on time.

He was prevented from that goal, however; when he was stopped by none other than Draco in the hallway. Malfoy had quickly stepped in front of him and said curtly. "We need to talk."

"No, I'm pretty sure we don't," Cesare answered coldly and tried to go around him. Malfoy grabbed his forearm to stop him. Cesare stared at his hand, then into Malfoy's face. Draco got the message and quickly released him. 

"It's important," he protested.

"Fine," Cesare gave in, thinking that the sooner Malfoy spewed whatever idiocy he was thinking at the moment, the sooner he could leave. He shifted his school bag. "You have thirty seconds."

The blond wizard's gray eyes darted around the hallway, making sure it was empty, and then continued. "You have to stop this."

"This what?" Cesare asked in a bored voice.

"This..... this business with Potter and his friends. Especially with Granger."

Cesare gave him a dangerous look, all traces of boredom vanished. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, c'mon. I saw you. It's obvious you like the girl. You have to stay away from her and her friends."

He had grabbed the front of Draco's robes, shoved him against the wall, and was reaching for his wand in less than a second. "Who do you think you are, Malfoy? Spying on me and making your own sick judgments, when I personally don't care at all for your opinion."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "Don't be so blind. You think _I really care about you and your little Mudblood whor-friend?" he quickly corrected, deciding against initiating a repeat of the fight in Potions class._

Cesare looked at him with fury in his dark face. "If YOU don't care, then why ........," Sudden realization came to him, making him feel ill.  "I don't believe it. He _wouldn't .........."_

Draco nodded grimly. "Yes."

He let out a shout of frustration and pushed Malfoy against the wall again. "You tell that sick bastard of an uncle to stay out of my business." A thought suddenly sprang to his mind and he grinned maliciously. "Tell him that when I find my father, he'll take care of him."

"You're bluffing."

"Am I? How do you know?"

"Don't you get it!? That's your problem! Do you want to kiss the rest of your normal life away so fast?"

Cesare blinked and gave Draco an odd look. "What? What are you talking about?"

Malfoy looked puzzled for a minute, and then his eyes brightened with knowledge. "You don't even know, DO you? What a joke. Everyone trying to protect you and watch your behavior and you don't even have the slightest clue." He let out a derisive laugh. 

"What the hell are you talking about? Everyone watching me?" he demanded.

He smiled at Cesare's confused expression. "Do you think it's a coincidence? All those meetings at your house. You think they were only there to do Dark Magic in the dungeons? They wanted to see if the rumors were true. Your uncle is quite the show-off."

Cesare was more puzzled than ever. "I think you inhaled some fumes in Potions, Draco, because you're talking crazy." He released his hold on Malfoy and stepped back.

Draco looked smug as he brushed off his robes as if they had been contaminated where Cesare touched them. "You've been in denial so long; you can't even recognize what's going on."

"In denial about WHAT?"

Malfoy calmly looked at his desperate face. "Unfortunately for you, you'll find out soon enough," he answered coolly and mysteriously. "Now if you'll excuse me, I believe we both have classes to attend." He started to sweep past Cesare.

"If I see you watching me or Hermione again, I'll hurt you so bad you'll have wished I'd simply cursed you," he promised. "I am serious. Stay away from her," he demanded.

Instead of anger or fear, Malfoy's face showed only acceptance at Cesare's harsh words. "Trust me; I have NO desire to go near that mudblood. And soon enough, I'm sure you'll begin to see things correctly again." He looked at Cesare with what almost seemed like disgusted pity, and then turned and walked away.

Cesare watched Draco walk away and felt his stomach suddenly churn with dread. _'I'm not in denial about anything. He's insane and he's making up little ideas in his head to amuse himself with. I have nothing to be confused about. He's just rambling,'_ he thought quickly.

But he couldn't stop trying to figure out what Draco had been talking about. The Death Eaters at his uncle's house watching HIM? That made no sense. In their eyes he was almost nothing; just some kid with a messed-up father who got dumped on Vincenzo. Wasn't he?

            _-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-_

-_~ Author's Note ~_-

Please, PLEASE review! I've gotten hardly any reviews and it is quite depressing. And I will put the next chapter up sooner if I get reviews. I already have it written.

Thanks to those who did review!

T.H.W

Carina

HogwartsHottie

Linaevial


	12. Gryffindor vs Slytherin

Disclaimer~ I don't anything Harry Potter. And if Warner Bros tries to sue me, I'll make like a Bedouin and disappear into the desert. ;)

Author's Note~ Happy Indian Independence Day if you celebrate it!

I have reviews! Great! Haha, this chapter is much longer than the previous too, so kick back, grab a cup of chai and read.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter Eleven

Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

"Oh _did_ I?" said Hermione, and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Just because it's taken _you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one _else_ has spotted I'm a girl!"_

~ Hermione, _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-'*'-_-

Cesare arrived late to Charms and muttered an apology to Professor Flitwick, before sliding into the empty seat next to Neville. Harry caught his eye and mouthed 'Detention?' from across the classroom. Cesare shook his head and gave a half-hearted thumbs-up. Harry smiled and turned back to his notes.

Cesare barely listened to the lecture on flying charms, a lesson which he normally would have been interested in. He kept turning over Malfoy's words in his mind. The conversation just didn't make sense at all. Draco was normally pretty self-absorbed. Why would he care who Cesare was friends with? Was his uncle really keeping tabs on him? He thought it odd when he didn't receive a Howler or anything of that sort after being put into Gryffindor. It almost seemed like Draco had been trying to give him a warning. But why? And what did any of this have to do with Death Eaters?

He tried to focus his mind on something else. He opened to his notes and started to write the date. He paused when he realized what today was and he quickly checked the date against something in a parchment notepad. A small smile came to his face. Tonight was the night. Another step in the project that had been consuming so much of his time recently. His thoughts were interrupted by a very loud BANG next to him. He jumped and looked over to see a very startled Neville covered with ashes.

"Oh, Mr. Longbottom! What did you do to the carpet?!" Flitwick hurried over as fast as his small legs would carry him.

"It--- it--- wouldn't fly," Neville stuttered, looking amazed at the smoky remains of what had been a carpet.

Flitwick sighed, "Well, it certainly won't now! Class, this is a great time to point out the reasons why flying carpets are now ILLEGAL in Britain ......"

The class laughed and Neville brushed the ashes off his robe. "Sorry."

Cesare shook his head mournfully. "Such a damn shame. Fine way of transportation."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione, Harry, and Ron left Flitwick's class and started walking down the vast corridor towards the common room. Hermione smiled as they passed a large window. "Oooh, look! It's snowing," she said cheerfully. 

Ron grinned rather evilly. "How about it, Harry? Snowball fight after lunch?" They had that afternoon off from classes.

"I wish," Harry said. "Practice. We have to beat Slytherin tomorrow!" There was a bit of a manic glint in his eyes.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "HONESTLY, Harry. The way you complained about Wood and Angelina, and you've become just like them."

Ron tried to cover his laugh, but was unsuccessful.

"Fine. Haha. We'll see if you laugh when Slytherin beats us."

"No way. We won last year and our team was a buncha dudders."

They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Password?"

"Loddy Lobkins."

They ducked inside and walked into the common room. 

"We'll just be a minute, Herm," they said and walked up to their dorm to drop off their heavy load of books. They were speaking loudly when they entered the room, but still startled the person inside. 

"Che? How'd you get back here so fast?"

Cesare quickly stuffed something heavy behind the curtains of his bed. "I took a shortcut. What are you guys doing? I thought you would be at lunch," he replied, unable to hide the irritation in his voice."

Harry and Ron exchanged suspicious looks. Before Ron could say something obnoxious, Harry interceded.

"We were just going to drop some stuff before lunch," Harry said. "What about you?"

"I'm not hungry," he answered vehemently.

"Er...... well, then we'll just be going." Harry dropped his books on the side of his bed, feeling Cesare's wary eyes on his back as he did so. Ron took his time doing the same. Then they left without another word.

Cesare sighed in relief. It was stupid of him to keep the potion here, but he needed to check on it without Hermione becoming suspicious of where he kept disappearing to. She had already commented on his frequent absences and reminded him of the bargain he had made with her.

He took the cauldron from behind the curtain and placed it on the floor. He sat next to it and scanned the voluminous, old book he had taken out of his trunk. He found his place and read the instructions. He nodded slowly, confirming what he had already known.

"Tonight's the night."

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Why didn't you ask him what he was hiding?" hissed Ron as they walked downstairs.

Harry shook his head. "Pointless, Ron. He wouldn't tell us anyway."

Ron shot him a glare. "Yet this is the git you keep trying to convince me to be nice to?" He started to add something else, but Hermione had started charging up the stairs with a hand on her hip and an annoyed expression on her face.

"What took you so long? I WOULD like to eat before Runes."

Ron grumbled, "Forget it. Let's eat."

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After dinner, Harry was particularly tense. He paced the common room, murmuring things about Quaffles and Bludgers, and rubbing his palms together. Ron and the other members of the team watched him and spoke quietly. Cesare was noticeably absent. After practice, he'd left and wasn't anywhere in the Gryffindor dormitory. 

He was actually in a deserted fifth floor classroom. A dusty board and chair were the only items in the room besides a huge skeleton of what looked to have been once a dragon. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, with a steaming cauldron at his feet and the same musty book in his hands. He opened it to a well worn page entitled, "The Animagus Transfiguration.

He smiled in anticipation. He'd been anxious to get started ever since Professor McGonagall had mentioned Animagi. Too anxious. If patience was a virtue, then it only joined the long list of virtues he didn't subscribe too.

Besides, this potion merely allowed its brewer to receive a vision of the animal form that would best suit them as an Animagus. It wasn't as dangerous as the actual transformation. 

He ladled some of the potion into a large glass. It was a nasty shade of mottled green and just looking at it made him want to be sick. He took a deep breath. This was it. Now or never. In a few moments he would either know which animal he was going to become or........he would have poisoned himself. He pushed the thought of his dismal track record in Potions aside. He slowly raised the glass to his mouth and tried to ignore the overpowering stench. Holding his noise, he downed the whole thing quickly.

He practically felt the potion hit his stomach. He was nearly overcome with a strong urge to gag, but held it back. _'Clear your mind,' he reminded himself. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about poison spreading through his veins._

Nothing happened for what seemed like forever. 'It's not working,' he realized. Disappointment flooded him and he opened his eyes.

And immediately noticed he was no longer in the dusty fifth-floor classroom. Instead, he was sitting on the mossy ground of a deep emerald forest. Tall trees loomed above his head, dark and impregnable. It was still night wherever he was. Moonlight gleamed in small silver patches on the overgrown forest floor. The air was devoid of noise, save the rustling of shadowy leaves.

Cesare blinked. And then blinked again, but the bizarre scene hadn't left him. He took a deep breathe to calm himself. Even the very air smelled earthy and rich.

He tried to ignore the adrenaline that was pumping through his system. How had he gotten here? Where was HERE? It looked like the Forbidden Forest, but somehow Cesare didn't think that was right. He had a feeling these ancient trees were in a place very, very far from anywhere he'd ever been.

He started trying to think about how he was going to get out of here, when sudden movement from the trees made him freeze. He held his breath as a shadowy, dark creature silently crept into view.

The creature turned out to be a jet-black wolf. At least.......he thought it was a wolf. He had never seen one before. It could have just been a really big dog, for all he knew. Its shining yellow eyes were watching him carefully.

He slowly slid his hand towards his pocket, his fingers itching for his wand. The animal continued to gaze at him. He reached the opening in his robes and tried not to gasp. His wand was gone, most likely still at Hogwarts. Great, now his situation was really improved. He was not only trapped in some forsaken forest, but now he was also wandless with a feral creature a few meters away from him.

The wolf seemed to sense his thoughts. It took a few graceful steps towards him, which was the exact OPPOSITE direction Cesare wanted it to go. It was still studying him with intelligent gold eyes.

Then something drifted across the creature's eyes. Something cold and frightening. The animal disappeared in a green flash. Cesare instinctively flinched and threw a hand up in front of his face. Suddenly a high, cold laugh broke the clear silence of the woods, as sharp as a knife.

_"Foolish boy.........you can't see with your eyes closed."_

"My eyes are open," Cesare whispered back, no knowing what else to do. It felt like ice was dripping down his back.

_"No, you've always been blind. Now.......OPEN YOUR EYES!"_

He was back in the classroom. He shook his head. What the hell had just happened? Realization dawned upon him. Had that been the vision? It would make sense. Particularly if that was his Animagus form. After all, that animal was similar to the one he'd thought of in September.

Cesare's thoughts were interrupted when he suddenly noticed something was very not right. His vision was musc better than normal. And his sense of smell! He could smell the food from the kitchens which were floors away. With a growing sense of horror, he looked down towards his hand. It was a black paw. He had transformed.

He let out a yell which came out as a low howl. He sprang to his feet. He had four legs! Change back, change back, change back, he silently begged himself. But it worked. With a small POP! he was back to normal, albeit very confused. He couldn't stop shaking as the adrenaline slowly receded from his blood.

How had this happened? This should not be possible. It took years to become an Animagus. And the potion wasn't supposed to have anything to do with the actual transformation! And it wasn't like he could exactly tell McGonagall what he was doing and ask what was going on. He really wasn't up to serving detention for the rest of the year.

This was not supposed to happen, he repeated to himself. Cesare knew he had a talent for Transfigurations, but he knew he wasn't THAT good. Most wizards never attempted to become Animagi; the risk was too great. Registering was also a long and irritating process. He had no intention of registering with any Ministry of Magic: British, Italian, Egyptian, etc. Who were they to tell wizards how to use their power?

He looked longingly out the window, and couldn't help imagining how great it would be to become the wolf again and run through the Forbidden Forest. How free he would probably feel. He realized that was probably the reason he had chosen to pursue being an Animagus. He had been under his uncle's strict and unforgiving eye his entire life and wanted some freedom. As an animal, no one would know who he was or be able to control him.

Cesare sighed. He had a feeling he was going to be spend a lot more time in the library trying to figure out what had happened tonight. But he also had a Quidditch game early in the morning and didn't want to be too tired to smack Bludgers towards Malfoy's head. More pressing matters would have to be put aside. He grabbed the book and magically scoured his cauldron, destroying any evidence of what he'd been doing. With that done, he started for the common room.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning the entire school was up early. Excited voices filled the Great Hall during breakfast. Harry was staring intensely at his toast. Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face. 

"Is your breakfast giving you advice on how to beat Slytherin or something? You don't need help. You're going to shove their faces in the dirt. Now eat something. You need your strength." She looked around at the identical expressions worn by Ron, Cesare, and the rest of the team. "Seriously, eat something and relax. We're going to win," she said confidently.

They nodded in unison and finished breakfast. In no time at all, the team was walking out onto the field. The entire school had shown up and easily filled the stands. As usual, only a quarter of the school wore the Slytherin colors, while the majority was decked out in gold and scarlet. Lee Jordan's younger brother Will, a first year who shared his brother's love for pranks and biased broadcasting, was at the microphone, announcing the line up.

The Gryffindor players lined up to meet the Slytherin team. Each player wore looks of hatred towards the opposing team. Madam Hooch held the Quaffle. 

"Now, play fair!" she reminded them harshly, perhaps noticing the death stares being exchanged. "Players ........ Take off!!!!!!!!"

She tossed the Quaffle high into the air and the game began. Asad Ademi, the youngest Chaser scooped up the Quaffle and started for the Slytherin goal posts amid cheers. Ginny swooped under him and he passed the ball to her.

Harry flew straight and high into the air. He kept high above the pitch, searching for any glitter of gold. His Firebolt smoothly cut through the wind, faster than any other broom on the pitch. It was good to have his broom back and be playing Quidditch after his ban last year. He was joined a moment later by Malfoy.

"Don't get any delusions in your head, Potter. Slytherin will take the Cup this year," he said haughtily. 

Harry rolled his eyes. Malfoy's extreme vanity was really too much at times. "A little worried, Malfoy? You lose this game and you're close to losing any chance at the Cup as well."

Malfoy looked at him smugly and pointed below. "Don't count on it yet."

Harry looked down just in time to see a Slytherin Chaser toss the Quaffle through the goal post while one of their beaters swung a club near Ron's head. Malfoy laughed and flew away. The game went on that way for ten more minutes. The Gryffindor Chasers were putting up a good fight, but it seemed like Ron was starting to get nervous again. He swore as Slytherin took another goal. There was no sign of the Snitch.

Down below, the game was getting dirtier. One of the Slytherins rammed into Katie Bell's broomstick before she could score, saying he got confused and thought she was a Quaffle. Cesare hit a Bludger towards the back end of his broom in vengeance, and sent the Slytherin player spinning away.

Madam Hooch awarded each team a penalty and both players scored. The game stayed tied. Harry noticed a few flakes on his shoulder and realized it had started to snow. The flurries started to give way to a heavier downfall and soon enough, his vision was getting impaired by swirling clouds of white snow.

The rest of the players were being affected as well. The snow stuck to everything and soon enough, the balls and brooms were all covered with a thin sheen of ice. Harry looked at the score. It was 110: 60. He cursed again. Slytherin was beating them by fifty points!

He anxiously flew over the pitch. He needed to find the Snitch. His heart skipped a beat when he saw it, in a flutter of gold wings, across the field near one of the Slytherin goal posts. He quickly sped up, but Malfoy had noticed his movement and swerved in front of him. "Going somewhere, Potty?"

Harry saw Malfoy slowly turn his head to see what Harry was looking at. Harry suddenly had an idea and quickly turned his direction towards the _Gryffindor_ goal posts. He plummeted towards the ground, hoping Malfoy would follow him. Draco easily took the bait, thinking Harry had seen the Snitch. They were neck in neck and quickly nearing the ground. 

Harry reached out his arm like he was going to grab something. The ground got closer and he heard the crowd screaming as the two Seekers plunged towards the pitch. Five meters, four meters, three meters, two...... Harry pulled out of the dive and took off across the field. Malfoy wasn't so lucky. Harry heard a loud THUD! as something heavy hit the ground hard behind him.

Harry concentrated on the Golden Snitch ahead. He was almost there ....... He reached out his arm ....... almost ...... and ....... he got it!!!!

He jumped off his broom and held the struggling Snitch triumphantly in his hand. He grinned broadly as the stands erupted in cheers. He started to yell _GRYFFINDOR!_ but was interrupted by a heavy blow to the back of the head. He staggered to the ground and weakly looked behind him to see what had hit him. He saw Malfoy standing with his broom, outlined in the glare of the snow.

"Sorry, Potty, Guess that Wronski Feint messed up my sense of direction a little." He started to saw more, but Harry felt very light-headed and suddenly everything got dark.

Cesare saw Harry slump to the ground and Malfoy standing over him laughing. Enraged, he jumped to the ground and stormed over to him. 

"You disgusting, cheating bastard!" he shouted. 

Malfoy eyed him coldly as he approached. "You lay a hand on me in front of all these people and not even Dumbledore will be able to prevent your expulsion." He nodded his head towards the Slytherin stands. Cesare easily spotted Lucius Malfoy's blonde head making his way down to the pitch.

Cesare struggled to control the urge to strangle Malfoy. "Get out of the way!" He pushed past him and went to Harry. He was lying still, but his breathing was normal. "Harry? Harry, can you hear me?" Well, of course he couldn't. Malfoy had practically rammed the end of his broomstick into Harry's skull.

Madam Hooch hurried over. "He's out of it for now." She turned her attention to Draco. "That was a low, dirty trick. We'll see about your punishment later. Now, Harry must be taken up to the hospital wing."

Cesare backed away, letting Madam Pomfrey do her job. He pushed his wet black hair out of his eyes and swore again. A familiar nasty voice behind him, made him quickly turn around. He came face-to-face with not just one, but two Malfoy's.

"Cesare. I must say it's a ...... surprise ...... to see you in those colors," Lucius commented, looking disdainfully at his gold and scarlet Quidditch robes. "I would have thought you'd have been in Slytherin." His voice was laced with accusation. Just being near him made Cesare sick. Lucius had always reminded him of his uncle.

He kept his voice even and devoid of any emotion. "Well, I heard these colors bring out my olive complexion much better," he said, very sarcastically. Draco rolled his eyes, but Lucius's cold gray gaze narrowed in annoyance. 

"You have caused your family much anger and embarrassment this year," he said icily.

Cesare lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "I wasn't the only one. I would think a few members of your family would roll over in their graves if they knew you had left Voldemort's side."

Lucius cracked his knuckles ominously and Cesare knew the elder Malfoy was itching to grab his throat and throttle him with those same pale hands. "You dare say his name........you know nothing, you fool......" he whispered, his voice shaking with anger. There was rage spreading through his pointed face face.

"My mistake," he said dryly. "Excuse me." He swept past them when he noticed Hermione running onto the pitch, a worried expression on her face.

"Hey! Calm down!" he grabbed her around the waist to stop her. 

"Oh, Che! Is Harry okay?" she asked anxiously.

"Yes, yes. He is fine. Don't worry. He just got knocked out. Madam Hooch says he going to be fine." He smiled at her and smoothed her hair. "Hey, don't look so grim. It's just a minor injury as far as Quidditch goes," he joked.

Hermione sighed. "I swear. He can't go a single YEAR without getting hurt! Ooo, I feel like hexing Malfoy something awful ......."

He laughed. "You're not the only one."

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They visited Harry in the hospital wing later that day. Ron had already taken the train back home. His mum had insisted he come home for the holidays this year in a long tear-drenched letter, complaining about how he never wrote and that Ginny and he were her only babies left. Ron had been slightly insulted at being called a baby, but went home nevertheless. Harry had been invited, but declined. Christmas with the Weasley's would have brought back to many memories of last December.

Hermione's parents had gone on extended holiday in France over Christmas. They would be gone for the entire month. They had wanted her to come, but she denied the invitation, completely horrified. (I CAN'T miss TWO WEEKS of school!) Cesare had actually burst into laughter when Hermione asked if he was going home for the holidays. ("Go home? Oh, that would be a fun time. I'd rather spend two weeks with Snape in Potions than with my uncle during Christmas. He's particularly nasty around holidays. I think all that good cheer makes him cringe.")

When they arrived, Harry seemed to be having an argument with Madam Pomfrey.

 "I'm FINE! Really, I promise. Just got hit a little too hard!"

"DANGEROUS sport, Mr. Potter. Every year, you spend a good deal of time here. And when it's not Quidditch, it's you trying to get yourself _killed_! Now, you're staying the night!"

She huffed off, and Hermione and Cesare entered quietly.

"How are you, Harry? How's your head?" Hermione whispered.

"I'm fine. I just wish I could leave the hospital wing," he grumbled. "Tomorrow's Christmas Eve!"

"Want me to beat up Malfoy for you?" Cesare offered.

Harry grinned and started to give his consent, but Hermione cut him off. 

"You CAN'T. You'll get in a lot more trouble if you hurt him again. Besides, I saw Lucius Malfoy talking to you. He can't be very happy about you hurting Draco, and he's got tons of influence."

Cesare started to protest, but Harry interrupted him. "Better not, mate. Besides, we have almost two Malfoy-free weeks to look forward too." He looked annoyed in Madam Pomfrey's direction. "Just as soon as I'm free!"

Hermione shrugged sympathetically. "Well at least break starts today. Ron wanted to come up and say good bye before he left, but you were still unconscious."

"I'll write him tomorrow. We've got quite a bit of time off after Christmas. It's so early this year."

They chatted with him for a little while longer, before Madam Pomfrey pushed them out.

They started back towards the common room. Hermione looked longingly out the window at the snow. 

"Oooh, let's just go outside for a bit. Hogwarts is so pretty when it snows!"

Cesare looked horrified at the thought. "Snow? That's not that cold stuff that falls in northern countries, is it?" He shivered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be a baby." 

"I'm not a baby. On the contrary, I'd simply rather face a pack of Dementors than frozen, falling water."

She grabbed his hand playfully. "C'mon, King Tut. Time to get used to our weather. There's going to be snow on the ground for the next few months. You can't stay inside the entire time."

"Did you just call me _King Tut_? Let's stay away from the ethnic name-calling......."

"Is Italia boy better?" she teased, pulling him closer to the doors. "I promise you'll like the snow. Please.........."

"Fine! Fine! Let's go freeze instead of going up to our warm common room fire."

Hermione smiled and pushed him out the door. "See, that's the Che we all know and love. Sarcastic and cynical."

He felt like he had been blasted with a Freezing Curse as soon as they crossed over the threshold and stepped outside. Flurries were still lightly falling and the lake had frozen over. 

"Isn't it pretty?" Hermione asked as they strolled closer towards the icy lake.

Cesare looked around. The magnificent castle was full of twinkling lights and covered by snow. It looked like something out of a fairy tale. Even the Forbidden Forest had a more magical aura and warm glow. "Yes, I admit it. It looks nice," he said, forcing the words out as he tried to imagine that they were really in the Sahara. He looked at Hermione next to him.

But she wasn't next to him. "Hermione?" he called and turned around. He squinted to see through the snow. 

WHACK! He got hit hard in the chest by something wet and cold. "What the ......"

He heard Hermione's tinkling laughter. "Never heard of a snowball?" she teased as she threw another one. This one hit him in the face.

"Oh, you are going to pay!" He picked up a clump of snow and threw it in her general direction. It went about a foot before spraying back in his face.

"I think you need some practice!"

After a few more tries, he was pretty good at putting a decent snowball together. Hermione, however; had gotten several better ones in. She was perfectly dry while he was dripping in snow. She quickly put another one together and waited to hear his footsteps. Nothing, it was silent. She took a few cautious steps forward.

Suddenly, somebody grabbed her from behind and pushed snow into her hair. She screamed as ice-cold water trickled down her neck and turned around to hit him, but lost her balance. She stumbled and fell, landing in a snow drift and accidentally pulling him down on top of her.

"Got you," he grinned. 

"I'm still better than you!" she said smugly. She noticed how close their bodies were and her heart sped up and her breath caught in her throat. She tried to toss it off lightly. "You weigh quite a lot for someone so athletic, did you know that ....."

She started to say more, but instead her caught her mouth with his own and started kissing her. She at first tried to pull away, but his lips felt so warm on hers......She found herself kissing him back.

The logical part of Hermione's mind was screaming at her to stop, but for once she ignored her better judgment. She wasn't sure how long they stayed there like that, but she suddenly became aware of Cesare moving away. He stood up and held out his hand to help her up.

She took it and he pulled her to her feet. He gave her his typical smug smile.

"Still better?" he asked devilishly.

"Wha ...... why did you do that?" she asked confused.

He looked at her with surprise. "Wasn't just me, Miss Granger."

Hermione felt herself blush. _'That's true, she thought, _you did kiss him back.'_ "YOU started it," she stated bluntly, trying to heap the blame on him._

"_E' vero_," he noted with a small nod.

"Can't you just answer a question normally, in English!?" she yelled, her confusion turning to exasperation. 

He still looked calm and collected, which angered her even more because that was the exact opposite way she felt right now. "What? Now, I'm not normal?" he asked, taking mock offense.

If looks could kill, he would have been dead. "You're hopeless!" she cried and turned away. She stalked back inside and felt a tear welling up in one eye. She felt so stupid for letting him hurt her like that. It was just like Cesare to play around with her emotions.

 Cesare watched her go. "Wait! Hermione! I was just ........" She ignored him and continued inside. He sighed. The good feeling he had gotten when he kissed her now dissipated, making him feel guilty for angering her.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione threw herself down on her bed. "I HATE men!!" she proclaimed loudly to the empty room. Lavender and Parvati had both gone home and she had the room to herself. She buried her head in her pillow, and chastised herself for being so foolish. _'I should have just smacked his face when he started to kiss me. But NO, I had to get all......all EMOTIONAL.'_

She lifted her head and stared blankly at the wall. _'What am I doing? I'm not going to let him get to me,' she told herself, disgusted at her behavior. She pulled a heavy book off her nightstand and quickly got lost in it. She was absorbed in the arcane rituals of Druidic signs, when it suddenly slipped from her grasp and dropped to the floor._

"Clumsy," she muttered and leaned down to pick it up. She screamed when she noticed a figure in the doorway, lounging against the doorjamb

"Shhh, not so loud. You want me to get caught?" Cesare asked.

She gave him an icy glare, making it clear what her opinion was. "Yes! Maybe I should scream louder." She clutched the book to her chest and watched in disbelief as he casually walked around her dorm.

"Much bigger than ours," he noticed. He made his way over to the bathroom. "_Merda_!" He exclaimed after quickly inspecting it. "This is much nicer than the bathroom in my dorm. I sense some gender bias in this school."

Her jaw dropped. How could he have the AUDACITY to come in here and complain about the dorms? She pulled her blankets to her chin and tried to look as fierce as possible in red pajamas.

"You're not supposed to be in here and I certainly don't want to see you." She hesitated and then her curiosity got the better of her. "HOW did you get up here anyway?"

Cesare snorted. "You mean that little staircase slid trick? Pathetic." He waved his hand over his head dramatically. "Wingardium Leviosa. Can't believe no one's done it before. _Hogwart's: A History_ never mentioned the founders lacked such imagination."

Hermione's brown eyes widened. "You've read _Hogwart's: A Hist—," she caught herself quickly. __'Stay focused,' Hermione, she reminded herself firmly. "This isn't your room. Leave."_

"Hermione." He walked towards her bed and plopped down next to her feet. Before she could protest, he added, "Please. Let me apologize. I am sorry I upset you before," he said, sounding sincere.

_'Damn that accent,'_ she thought. But her face didn't betray her thought and she snorted instead. "I didn't know you knew how to apologize," she commented sarcastically.

"I'll make an exception this one time."

She maintained her sarcasm. "Oooo, I must be special."

"You are," he replied honestly, his brown eyes staring into her own.

She looked at him with widened eyes, surprised to hear him say something nice. "Do you mean that? Or are you just using your superb lying skills?"

"I mean it."

Her tone softened to almost a whisper. "I don't know if I can trust you."

Cesare made a sarcastic sound. "Well, I certainly can't judge you. I've never trusted another person in my entire life," he said harshly.

"Why not?" she asked intrigued.

"People always betray you when your back is turned."

She looked surprised. "That's pretty negative." Hermione was silent for a moment, and then asked. "Do you think I'd do that?" she asked tentatively.

He didn't know what to say and looked down. "I don't know. I do not think so."

"This is hard for you to talk about, isn't it?" she asked, noticing his unease.

He shook his head and laughed. "You have no idea."

She smiled. "Maybe we can learn to trust each other."

"Maybe." He stared at her. "But why would you want to put up with me?" he asked, half-joking.

Hermione tried to feel a little braver. "Because then I can do this whenever I want," she said and lightly kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Che."

He tried to conceal his surprise at her forwardness. "Goodnight, Hermione," he replied, slightly hoping she would continue her good night, perhaps in a way that involved more lips, but no luck. She smiled, and then he left.

When he was gone, she took a quick breath, scarcely believing what had happened in the past few hours. She tried to clear her mind, but was unsuccessful. She realized her heart was still beating faster than usual. She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, but couldn't stop the grin that spread over her face when she remembered how she had caught him off guard with her good night kiss.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cesare felt slightly dazed as he walked back to his dorm room. He lay back on his bed and stared out his canopy, trying to sort out the events of the past twenty-four hours. He had mysteriously become an Animagus, insulted Lucius Malfoy, and kissed Hermione. "This school has done some strange things to me," he muttered in amazement.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

-_~ Author's Note ~_-

Okay....::takes ten steps back:: Before, all the die-hard R/H, H/H, D/H or anything else you can think of, flame me or throw things at their computers, I beg you.... please reconsider. This is just one chapter, doesn't mean they're getting married or anything ridiculous like that. Besides, don't you want to know Harry and _Ron's reactions? And anyway, I need some happy stuff before I write the next few chapters. Otherwise, I really don't like writing all this romantic stuff. Too mushy for me. Blech. _

I didn't do my usual ten rewrites of this, so there may be a few mistakes. I hope it doesn't seemed too rushed, but I was trying to get this out quickly.

I got reviews! ::cries with happiness:: Please review my next chapters! More reviews=another chapter

T.H.W~ yes, this is definitely my first story. I'm really glad you are enjoying it so much. And I agree, Lucius is a vicious skank.

Liz~ thanks! I get reviewed on both! Awesome.

Barbara Kennedy~ I LOVE the Arabian Nights, lol, don't worry. Almari will be back.

Nunki~ do you hate me now? I dearly hope not. Don't worry, I'm not going to ignore Ron at all!

Carina

Linaevial

HogwartsHottie


	13. Christmas

-_~ Disclaimer ~_- Still don't own anything. And the previous threat holds up. I WILL make like a Bedouin and disappear into the desert if anyone tries to sue me.

-_~ Author's Note ~_- 

Okay, I finished this completely sleep-deprived. It is NOT beta read yet, because I was trying to post it before I went away. I apologize for any mistakes.

Chapter 12

Christmas 

_The trouble with the future is that is usually arrives before we're ready for it._

~ Arnold H. Glasgow

_There was a door to which I found no key: There was the veil through which I might not see._

~ Omar Khayyam

_As a rock on the seashore he standeth firm, and the dashing of the waves disturbeth him not. He raiseth his head like a tower on a hill, and the arrows of fortune drop at his feet. In the instant of danger, the courage of his heart here, and scorn to fly._

~ Akhenaton, Egyptian pharoah

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

Harry woke up late and insisted on leaving the hospital wing for breakfast. He argued with Madam Pomfrey until she gave in and huffed away, muttering about ungrateful students. He got dressed and touched the back of his head gingerly, but it felt fine. He grabbed his wand and shoved it into his robe before heading towards the Gryffindor common room. On the way there, he passed by Hagrid. The giant teacher was putting up massive evergreens in the Great Hall and stringing them with twinkling faerie lights. He waved Harry over.

Hagrid put down one of the huge trees and beamed warmly at him.

"Alrigh', Harry? I saw tha' nasty blow ya took ter the head yesterday. Quite the rotten cheater Malfoy continues to be," he said, his beetle black eyes narrowing with disgust. He rattled the tree to emphasize his point and pine needles showered the floor.

"I'm alright, Hagrid," Harry assured him.

"Good," Hagrid said with another wide grin. "But then I got another bone ta pick with ya. How come you and yer friends haven't been coming around ta see me as much?" he asked with a sly smile, but Harry knew he was being serious.

Harry immediately felt a pang of guilt. It was true. He had been so consumed by Quidditch and school lately. "I'm sorry, Hagrid. Quidditch and schoolwork having been a total nightmare. Time must be slipping by me."

Hagrid nodded. "I understan'. Being captain must be a lot a work. And gearing up fer yer N.E.W.T. midyear reports and all." 

He shook his head. "No, no excuses for me. I'll come by tomorrow after dinner to make up," Harry promised.

Hagrid looked pleased, but the concern hadn't left his visage. "My class 'asn't been too much, 'as it?" he asked.

"Oh no, not at all," Harry said quickly, trying not to laugh at the idea. It was true. There wasn't much homework in Creatures. You just had to try and survive the class without getting attacked by a Graphorn or one of the equally vicious creatures that Hagrid loved.

The half-giant still looked downcast though. "I jus' hope that ya like my classes. I know Malfoy and those Slytherins o' his have plenty of comments."

"Of course we like your classes! They're, er, very exciting." _If you don't get killed,_ Harry though silently. He quickly changed to another subject that he had been wondering about. "Hagrid, y'know, I've been talking to Cesare a lot recently," he started slowly.

"Have ya, then?" Hagrid had a funny expression on his face, like he was trying to conceal something. "Well, that doesn' come as much of a surprise, I guess," he said, but it seemed like he was talking to himself.

"It doesn't?" Harry inquired casually.

"No, I mean. It shouldn'. After all his ........." Hagrid suddenly stopped. "I shouldn't be telling ya this."

"Why not?" Harry asked, frustrated. "How come all the professors act that way around him? It's almost like the staff is hiding something."

"Harry, Harry. Really. This isn' yer concern." Hagrid looked very uncomfortable.

"Well then doesn't _he_ deserve to know what is going on?"

Hagrid bent so that his face was close to Harry's and whispered. "He will, but its fer him to know. Not you."

"Ha! So there is something going on," Harry said triumphantly.

Hagrid rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "'Tis a complicated situation," he said darkly. "Sumpfin none of us expected." He picked up the tree and started to walk off, but Harry cut him off.

"Why didn't you expect it?" Harry quickly followed him down the hall, ducking to avoid the swinging branches of the gigantic tree.

He sighed, but met Harry's imploring gaze. "Yer not gonna give this up, are yeh?"

Harry shook his head and deftly hid his smile. How well Hagrid knew him. "Remember Nicolas Flamel?"

The groundskeeper rolled his eyes. "All I'll tell yeh is this." He glanced cautiously around the empty Great Hall. Only the painting could have listened in. "Yer fellow student Cesare isn't supposed to be alive."

Harry's mouth fell open and he goggled at Hagrid. Whatever he had been expecting, this definitely wasn't it. Cesare......was.......was supposed to be _DEAD_? That didn't make any sense. He couldn't comprehend what Hagrid was telling him. "Wait......WHAT?"

Hagrid looked grim, his eyes devoid of most of their usual warmth. Instead Hagrid had an expression on his face Harry normally didn't see: exhaustion, as if he'd been carrying the world and found the burden unbearable. Harry had seen that face on too many recently. Just take a glance at the expressions of any in the Order of the Phoenix.

"I can't tell yeh more, Harry. Not yet. It wouldn' be fair to those involved. Difficult situation, dunno how tis going ta work out." Even his voice sounded tired. "I mus' be gettin on with these trees now."

Although curiosity was nearly driving him mad, Harry nodded. He was surprised Hagrid had told him this much. It reflected how much his friend thought of him and trusted him. "I understand, Hagrid," he said.

Hagrid still looked concerned. "And you bes' be keeping this ta yerself. Ron and Hermione don't need ta know."

Harry nodded again, more solemnly. 

"And another thing, Harry........" Hagrid paused and seemed to hesitate, unsure of how to proceed. "Jus'.......jus' watch yerself around Cesare."

He narrowed his eyes, confused. "What do you mean? Why?"

The half-giant sighed. "I know of that uncle o' his. Nasty git, I've heard. Anyone who's grown up with the likes of him mus' be affected."

Harry didn't like the sound of that and found himself echoing Cesare's words. "Just because his uncle is a nasty git, doesn't mean—,"

Hagrid interrupted him. "I'm not sayin' that. But blood can sometimes count. Look at the Malfoy's. The whole bunch of 'em are rotten. But--" he held up a hand to stop Harry's protest.

"Sometimes its not. Jus' look at you and the Dursley's. Nothin' alike." He said with a small smile. But his smile didn't conceal the worry in his eyes.

"Jus' be on yer guard, Harry."

Harry was confused and still didn't quite believe what he was hearing. "Hagrid. You're not saying........."

"I'm jus' saying be on your guard. Nothing more, nothing less." He looked at Harry with a pained expression on his face. It seemed like Hagrid was trying to protect him, but wasn't sure if he quite knew how.

"Okay, Hagrid," Harry nodded, trying to reassure his friend. Hagrid shook his head, muttering something and walked away.

Harry watched him walk away with a funny feeling in his stomach. Hagrid wouldn't warn him for nothing. He trusted Hagrid, while his friendship with Cesare was still in a fledgling state. And Cesare was definitely the type to arouse suspicion. He wore mystery like a cloak and that bothered Harry. Now this startling revelation. Cesare was supposed to be DEAD? What the bloody hell did that mean? Had Hagrid meant that Cesare had been thought to be dead or that he should be killed or something? The latter sounded a bit too ominous for his liking.

He started back towards the common room, still mulling over his thoughts. He started to piece together clues. Cesare was most definitely not a just an exchange student, randomly selected from a pool of thousands. He may never have been to Britain, but he had some roots here. That was clear. The staff knew more about him than they let on. And evidently they thought he had been dead until recently.

But why him? Why would they know of some Egyptian-Italian boy with unknown parents? Unless perhaps his parents were not so unknown to them.......

That surprise hypothesis hit him as he approached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Of course! Why hadn't he thought of it before! Cesare's father had gone to Hogwart's. He must have had some significance to some of the staff members, particularly Snape and Hagrid.

"Sniveling snovel," he muttered to the Fat Lady.

"Feeling better, Mr. Potter?" she asked with a benevolent smile.

"Much," he replied with a forced grin. The portrait swung open, revealing the Gryffindor common room. There was a cheerful fire crackling in the fireplace, but the spacious, richly adorned room seemed empty. The cozy armchairs and loveseats were devoid of any students. Or at least he thought.

He saw movement at of the corner of his eye on the sofa in front of the fire. He stepped closer. Suddenly two people quickly moved apart. 

"Hermione?" he asked, recognizing the two students.

"Er, hullo, Harry," she stuttered. "How are you?" she asked quickly.

"I'm alright. Wha-- what were you doing?" he asked, confused. Hermione and Cesare had been sitting awfully close to one another........ 

Cesare flashed a quick smile at him. "I, ah, hexed her hair green, and she was hitting me in revenge. Quite viciously," he said shaking his head sadly and rubbing his arm.

Hermione's eyes widened slightly at his quick lie. "Right," she said with a nod.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Your hair isn't green, Hermione."

"I fixed it," she lied and then took his arm and pulled him down on the sofa between herself and Cesare. Cesare didn't look happy about this seating arrangement, but Hermione ignored him.

"So Madam Pomfrey released you from your prison?" she teased.

"Yeah," he said, acknowledging the quick change of subject. He simply decided not to think about what he walked in on. He had enough turmoil going on in his mind. He realized it was hard to look Cesare in the eye. After all, it wasn't everyday you found out that the guy who sat next to you in Potions class was supposed to be dead.

"Are you all hungry?" Cesare asked, apparently unaware of what was going through Harry's mind. "I think I could go for some breakfast."

"Sounds good to me. I'll just change and be right down," Harry said, still dressed in his Quidditch robes from yesterday, He got up and went up the winding staircase.

When he was out of sight, Hermione breathed a huge sigh of relief. "That was close."

Che grinned at her. "You did say I am a good liar."

She rolled her eyes. "I just want to keep this our secret for awhile."

"I understand," he said. His eyes turned sad. "Does that mean we can't do this as much?" he asked and leaned in to kiss her.

Hermione pushed him away. "Yes," she said with mock indignation. He grabbed at his chest and fell back. 

"Ah, how she wounds me," he said in a suffering voice.

Hermione tried not to laugh. "Control yourself, Che," she said lightly

"I am perfectly in control."

"You are a sixteen year old male. You have no control."

"I do too. Besides I'm seventeen anyway."

Hermione looked shocked. "Since _when?"_

He shrugged. "December 2nd."

"Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday," she demanded.

Cesare shuddered. "I don't do that "birthday" thing."

She shook her head. "You're weird. I would have liked to know it was your birthday. I could have at least said 'Happy Birthday' or something......"

"I forgive you," he said sarcastically and stroked the side of her face, enjoying watched her annoyed expression melt away. She tried to push his hand away. "Don't. He said he would be right down."

"What? Are you afraid of almost getting caught again?" he whispered in her ear as he pushed back her hair and slyly pulled her head closer and brushed his lips against her cheek.

"Cesare, please!" she argued, but couldn't bring herself to push him away. He knew exactly what to do to make her lose control.

"He's coming!" She jumped up right before Harry came down. "Hungry, Harry? Alright. Let's go!"

Harry gave Cesare a befuddled expression and pointed at Hermione. Che threw up his hands and mouthed. _'Girls.' _

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After breakfast, the three of them had a humongous snowball fight that lasted for about two hours. It ended when Hermione bewitched piles of snow to hover over the boys, before burying them in huge, cold snowdrifts. They immediately surrendered and headed back inside the castle.

Harry passed by Professor Almari as he was heading back towards the common room, and she beckoned him into her office with a warm smile. She had quickly one of the favorite teachers at Hogwart's. Even the Slytherins had nothing bad to say about here. On the contrary, it seemed that after Professor Snape, Almari was the Slytherin favorite. Harry did not fail to see the irony that the two teachers best liked by Slytherin House were both former Death Eaters.

He had grown used to her Occlumency lessons. She was an excellent instructor and he was surprised at his rapid improvement. With the combination of Occlumency lessons and Lupin's amulet, Harry rarely had nightmares. (Although using Lupin's gift caused him a twinge of guilt every night.) Almari was easy to talk to and very informative. Harry found himself gaining an education in everything from magical beings to wizarding communities in Persia. All he had to do was remark how colorful the tapestry hanging over her desk was, and her eyes would light up in interest and she would be telling him all about it, shaking all her golden bangles as she emphasized a point by waving her hands in the air.

It seemed unbelievable that she had once served Lord Voldemort. She seemed the farthest thing from a Death Eater. Even as she sat in front of him now, pressing a mug of spicy chai into his hands, he couldn't understand it. Why had she supported Voldemort?

"You look perplexed, Harry," she noted. Regardless of how well he was getting at Occlumency, it was still hard to get anything by the jinn.

"Nope," he lied, hoping she wouldn't see right through him. "So what did you want to talk to me about?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.

Her dark eyes turned serious. "Harry, you must know how much progress you have made in Occlumency. It's incredible. I am amazed that you had such trouble with it last year."

Harry wasn't amazed. Last year, he hadn't been completely willing to let go of the connection he had with Voldemort. He had thought it _USEFUL, a bitter thought that still stung. He had accomplished Occlumency this year out of the terror that Voldemort would try to hurt or kill another person he loved. _

Almari continued. "I have spoken with the Headmaster and he agreed to a request of mine, which I will now bring up with you."

"Yes?" he asked curiously.

"You have shown great skill in Occlumency. Yet you cannot learn how to full defend yourself if you don't know the tactics used to attack the mind. After the holidays, I would like to begin training you in the basics of Legilimency."

His green eyes widened. Legilimency? He was going to learn how to break into the minds of others. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. On the other hand, he wanted to be as an accomplished Occlumens as possible.

"Okay," he agreed slowly.

She looked thoughtful. "There is only one snag. I would let you practice on me, but because I am a jinni, you would not be able to break into my mind unless I opened the connection. I'd say you might need the assistance of a trusted friend."

Harry was slightly taken aback by this. He didn't want to intrude on the privacy of any of his friends. Ron and Hermione's faces quickly came to his mind. He knew that either would be willing to help him, but didn't want to take advantage of their friendship. 

He nodded again. "Okay, I'll find someone," he promised, feeling slightly guilty at the thought.

She looked kindly at him. "Legilimency is hard work, Harry. Even more difficult than Occlumency. This will not be easy."

"I understand, I don't expect it to be," he said. She smiled at him, and then looked out the window at the gently falling snow.

"It is very beautiful here. I never thought I would like the snow, but I must admit it is very lovely. I expect Hagrid will have decorated the Hall most wondrously. I have never celebrated Christmas, but I am looking forward to it."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, the Christmas feast is great. You'll enjoy it." He got up. "I should be going though."

Almari stood as well. "One more thing." She quickly crossed the room towards her massive, ornate bookshelves. She scanned the musty volumes, and then pulled out one particularly heavy book and thrust it into Harry's arms.

"Your friend Miss Granger was looking for this. Kindly give it to her," she requested.

The book was heavy enough to keep a manic Quaffle pinned to the ground. _Hermione would want something like this_, he thought sarcastically.

"Have a Happy Christmas, Harry," she said her eyes twinkling as he struggled at her door with the massive literary work.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Meanwhile, Hermione and Cesare had gone to the Owlery. Cesare hadn't visited Mari in quite awhile and felt bad. The chocolate colored owl swooped down immediately when they entered. She landed on his outstretched forearm and sunk her claws in a little too deep.

"Hey! _Arresti__ quello!" he scolded her in Italian. "I know I've been away, but that hurts."_

She gave a little hoot of indignation and flew off. He shook his head. 

"Temper, temper, but watch. She will come down in a few minutes."

"Sheh will comey don in a few menutes," she repeated coyly, with a teasing smile.

He raised a dark eyebrow. "Are you making fun of my accent?"

"Are a-you a-makin' fon o my akzent?" she mocked.

"I don't sound like that," he protested.

She smiled. "I don' zound like dat—." Hermione laughed at his annoyed expression. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. Actually, you've improved dramatically since September," she added to reconcile.

He shuddered. "Warn me if I start to sound like an Englishman."

"Hey!" she hit his arm. "That's not very nice. I'm offended."

"Why? You're not an English_man."_

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "I don't know what you mean, _carina_. Tutor me."

She smiled. "Okay," and leaned in to kiss him. He kissed her back. 

The Owlery was quiet and still, with only the soft rustling of hundreds of wings. Unknown the couple below, a huge black horned owl turned a fiery red eye away with one last fierce glance downward. The bird lifted its huge wings slowly and took off through one of the open archways.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Harry met up with Hermione and Cesare again, it was close to dinner. They headed towards the Great Hall, where a Christmas Eve feast had been set up. There was only one long dining table, however; due to the fact that most students had elected to go home for the holidays this year. The Professors seemed to be seating on one side and the twenty or so students left sat on the other side.

Harry searched the table for three empty seats and his face fell when he realized that they would have to seat across Snape. He pulled Cesare aside and quickly whispered something. A grin spread across the Egyptian's face and then disappeared. Hermione got a suspicious feeling in her stomach. 

"C'mon," Harry muttered and bravely took the seat across Snape. Snape gave him a small look of disgust before turning his attention back to Dumbledore, who had stood up.

"It seems we'll be a rather big empty school for a little while, so I thought we would just use one dining table," he said with a smile. "Now, enjoy!" he said and clapped his hands excitedly. The table filled with plates and platters of delicious food and students and staff alike eagerly filled their plates.

Hermione, Harry, and Cesare tried to eat fast and avoid Snape's glares. It was too much of an opportunity, however, to go to waste. Cesare gave a small wink to Harry and nodded his head towards Snape's goblet. Harry nodded slightly.

Harry made a motion to reach for his own goblet, but instead knocked over Snape's. The Potion Master's wine spilled all over the clean tablecloth.

"Professor, I'm so sorry! Here, let me get it," he said apologetically and reached for his wand to clean the spill with magic.

"Forget it, Potter," Snape said through clenched teeth. "You were probably trying to curse it anyway."

While Harry looked wide-eyed and innocent, Cesare took advantage of Snape's preoccupation to shoot gold sparks at his plate. Hermione looked at him fiercely and shook her head slightly. Cesare just shrugged, not bothering to appear apologetic.

Snape returned to eating and both Harry and Cesare found it hard not to keep looking at him to see if the spell would take effect. At the end of dinner, when Hermione had started to get up, Dumbledore looked curiously at Snape and commented. "Why, Severus. You look quite in the holiday spirit."

Harry, Cesare, and Hermione took this opportunity to leave as quickly as possible, sneaking out the doors while everyone's focus was on Snape.

Snape looked at the Headmaster in confusion. "What?" 

The others at the table turned in his direction and tried not to laugh. Snape looked like he had been dipped in sparkly gold paint, and red and green twinkling lights covered his robes.

A furious expression filled his face with rage. "Potter and al-Jalil," he muttered. But they were long gone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The three had quickly returned to Gryffindor tower before they were caught. Harry and Cesare were in hysterics, but Hermione wore a severe expression on her face.

"He's going to know it was you two."

"Aw, c'mon, 'Mione," Harry laughed. "Did you get a good look at him? Any punishment is worth that."

Cesare nodded in agreement and slapped Harry's back. "Nicely played, if I do say so myself," he said in his best mock English accent.

They hung out in front of the fire, laughing and joking, for a few more hours before Hermione announced that she was going to bed. As they headed up their respective staircases, Hermione winked at Cesare. He smiled back at her, behind Harry's back, of course.

Hermione entered her empty dormitory room and changed into her pajamas. She brushed her teeth, while looking in the mirror at herself. She hardy recognized the pretty girl staring back at her. A small smile lit up her face. She felt some butterflies in her stomach. She finished brushing her teeth and went to the window and stared out at the Forbidden Forest. 

Was she doing to right thing when it came to Cesare? She couldn't deny her feeling for him, but still was jittery at the thought of them going out. She didn't want to move to fast. Her uncertainty about Cesare hadn't left; there was a lot about him she still didn't know. 

"Stop it, Hermione. Just let things happen as they will," she muttered to herself and went to bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry woke early on Christmas due to a shrill, shrieking voice about three inches away from his ear.

"Harry Potter! Harry Potter! Happy Christmas, Harry Potter!!!!"

"Wha?" Harry said rubbing his eyes and reaching for his glasses. Once the glasses were in place he say who was causing all the noise.

"Hullo, Dobby," he said wearily. "Happy Christmas."

Cesare also woke up at Dobby's yelling. He jumped up and glared around the room. His harsh look fade when he glanced at the house-elf dressed in what appeared to be a small red toga with a bright green blinking hat. "Who are you?" he asked bewildered.

"This is Dobby. He's a friend," Harry said, making his way out of bed and across the room to a huge Christmas tree in the corner. The sun was streaming through the large window, filling the room with light and illuminating the stack of brightly wrapped gifts.

"Wow, look at all these presents," Harry said in awe. Cesare also got up.

"Probably mostly yours," he said with a shrug. Like Professor Almari, he had never celebrated Christmas before and was still unaccustomed to the holiday. Harry rolled his eyes and tossed some socks at Dobby.

"There you go, Dobby."

The elf's eyes started to water over. "Your generosity grows with every year, sir." He beamed at Harry as if he had never seen anything more beautiful.

"Er, yeah."

They were interrupted when the door swung open to reveal Hermione, with Crookshanks close at her heels. She was dressed in a bright red robe and her bushy hair (which she had bothered to magically straighten this early in the morning) was pulled back into a think ponytail. "Happy Christmas!" she greeted them.

"Thought you weren't supposed to be in here?" Cesare joked.

"Well, I'm glad you're so happy to see me," she replied sarcastically. "I'm not spending my Christmas morning in an empty room."

"Happy Christmas, 'Mione," Harry said with a smile. "Catch." He tossed a present her way. She caught in and eagerly unwrapped the present. "_A History of House-elves," she read off the title of the heavy old book. Haha, very funny," she said with a smile._

"Just don't get started with that S.P.E.W. stuff again, please," he teased, before opening his own presents. He received a green knitted sweater with a lightning bolt from Mrs. Weasley, along with several food parcels. Ron had given him a large box of assorted Zonko's jokes and candy. Hermione gave him a framed picture of herself, Ron, and Harry laughing and hitting each other in front of the castle. Cesare had given him a book on Firebolts and Hagrid had sent his usual rock cakes. But there was one last gift. A very long rectangular box.

"What is it?" Cesare asked as Harry opened the mysterious gift. He was stunned by what he saw inside.

"Wow," Harry murmured quietly and pulled out the antique broomstick. In glittering gold script across the handle bore the rider's famous name: Josef Wronski.

"Wow," echoed Cesare. "Is that really his autograph?"

"I think so," said Harry. He reached for the letter that was in the box. It was very short and matter-of-fact, which didn't surprise him when he saw the signature.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy Christmas.__ Sirius and I bought the broom for your father while we were still in school. It belongs to you now. The papers of authenticity are included._

_Remus Lupin_

Harry felt the all familiar pain of guilt upon seeing Lupin's loopy signature. Harry had really been terrible to him last August. All because he had offered to take care of him. He desperately wished he could take back some of what he said to the werewolf. He didn't deserve this gift.

As the other Quidditch player, Cesare immediately grasped the significance of this broomstick's owner. He ran his hand over the smooth handle. "I can't believe HE actually rode this......"

Hermione looked confused. "Wait; is that the Wonky Faint guy?"

Harry looked at her like she had said something blasphemous. "Hermione, Josef Wronski was the best Seeker in the history of Quidditch," he said in a controlled tone.

She didn't look very impressed. "Oh, okay."

They continued to open their presents until they were covered in wrapping paper. 

"Well, I think that's the last of them," Hermione said.

"No, wait. Here's one more. Well, actually, it's just an envelope. Maybe a card or something," Harry said pulling out an envelope from behind the tree. He looked at the name on it. "For you," he said to Cesare and tossed it in his direction 

Cesare caught it easily and studied the outside of the envelope. "I think it's from my uncle," he said with a trace of uncertainty in his voice. "But he never sends me anything for Christmas," he mused. He tore open the envelope and quickly scanned the letter.

He let a long stream of what sounded like very angry Arabic and clutched the letter as if trying not to tear it into pieces.

Hermione and Harry exchanged confused glances.

"Er, Che. Back to English, mate."

Cesare was so angry he didn't trust himself to speak. Instinctively, he thrust the letter towards Harry, and then started pacing and muttering to himself.

Harry took one look at the swirling, indistinct and very incomprehensible figures written across the parchment in obsidian ink. There were as inscrutable as the hieroglyphics. 

"Getting back to the whole English thing........."

"I don't know what he's playing at. I always stay at my school during the holidays. Now apparently there is some family emergency. He's full of shit! We have no other family member that could have an emergency!"

"Wait. He wants you to go back home?" Hermione asked, her alarm growing. She had never seen him this furious and he was actually a bit frightening in his rage.

Harry didn't look any happier. He had a feeling Cesare's home situation was even worse than his own. His uncle didn't sound like someone to cross and Harry had his suspicions about the origins on Cesare's bruises when school started.

"I'm not going," Cesare said defiantly. He had picked up a piece of wrapping and was methodically shredding it.

"I don't think you have much of a choice," Harry said with a concerned expression. "He enclosed your ticket for the Hogwarts Express after dinner. And I bet he had to get Dumbledore's permission for you to leave today."

Cesare looked trapped, an expression that was disturbing on his normally calm, collected face. "I can't go there."

Harry paused, unsure of what he was going to say. "Che. Those bruises in the beginning of the year. I'm sure if you told Dumbledore that .........."

"That what? What are you getting at Harry?" Cesare's eyes flashed angrily.

Harry didn't want to continue, but forced the words out. "If Dumbledore thought that your uncle hit you ........."

"HE DOESN'T! Please, don't start in on that again," Cesare complained, rubbing his head in exasperation.

"Che," Hermione tried to sound soothing. "We're just trying to help you." She took his arm gently.

"Forget it, Herm," he said, but with less rage this time. "Just forget it. I'll just go and get this over with," he said disgustedly. He shook her off gently. "I just need to go calm down," he muttered. "I'll see you later." He headed for the stairs.

"Cesare, wait!" Hermione said, but he kept walking.

"Let him go, 'Mione," Harry said quietly. "He's right. He needs to calm down."

The worry didn't leave Hermione's eyes. "Do you think he'll be okay at his uncle's?" she asked.

Harry tried to sound more confident than he was. "Yeah. I'm sure he's been around his uncle a long time and knows how to handle himself."

"So you don't think anything bad will happen to him?" There was a hint of desperation in her worried brown eyes.

"Hermione, he'll be fine. C'mon, Miss Rational." He tried to smile, but couldn't help the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They didn't see Cesare again until dinner. He seemed much better and actually looked like he'd been having the time of his life. He eagerly sat down next to them.

Harry gave him a dubious look. "You certainly seem happier," he remarked.

"Yeah," he said. "Just walked around." That was a lie. What Cesare had actually done to calm down had been to try out his illegal Animagus form in the Forbidden Forest. But he wasn't telling anybody that little piece of information. He had a feeling it would lead to a lecture from Hermione and perhaps even detention.

Dumbledore clapped his hands and stood up at the head of the table.

"A Happy Christmas to everyone," he said with a huge grin. "As an extra treat to our foreign students, I planned for a little more....._exotic feast than usual." His blue eyes twinkled. He took his wand out and waved in over the table, sending a fountain of Christmas crackers all over the table._

"Enjoy!"

The table filled with even more food than the previous night. Harry helped himself to a cracker and opened it. A small explosion revealed a Quick-Notes quill. 

"Wow! Now I don't have to take notes!" he cried happily

Cesare smiled, his trip to Italy pushed to the back of his mind as the usual Hogwart's food was joined with platters from around the world. He spotted several Mediterranean and Middle Eastern dishes besides puddings and treacle tart. He nearly knocked Professor Almari's arm out of the way when they both reached for the same thing.

He ate ravenously and tried to get Hermione and Harry to try the food he had grown up with. Even they admitted most of it was good, but wouldn't touch the stuffed artichokes. 

"It looks like a merperson's head," Hermione shuddered.

Cesare wasn't eager to see the feast end; knowing where he would be headed after. The small happiness he had felt started to fade as the hours ticked by.

He, Hermione, and Harry were among the last to leave the table. McGonagall came up to the trio.

"Mr. al-Jalil, I trust you have received your letter?"

"Yes, Professor," he said with dismay.

"Good. You are to catch the train at the station in Hogsmeade. We will provide a carriage for you to take there."

Hermione spoke up with a pleading tone in her voice. "Professor, can we go down to the station with him? Please?"

McGonagall shrugged. "It shouldn't be a problem. The carriage has to return here anyway. But," her voice turned stern. "Just to the station. No wandering around and come straight back in the castle when you arrive back."

Hermione was so surprised she gave them permission and merely nodded in agreement.

McGonagall walked off and Cesare picked up the small bag that he had brought to dinner. Halfway to the doors, Harry stopped dead in his tracks and smacked his forehead.

"Damn! I'm so sorry. I forgot I told Hagrid that I would visit him after dinner. I can't go with you to the station," he said apologetically.

"It's alright. Go," Cesare said. "Have a good break, Harry."

"You too, Che." Harry had a bad feeling in his gut about this trip. "Take care of yourself."

Cesare forced a laugh. "It's just a few days, no?"

Harry nodded. "I'll see you soon then."

Cesare and Hermione pulled on their clocks before heading outside towards the carriage. The ride to the station was quiet. Cesare had a stoic expression set on his dark face and wasn't responding to attempts at conversation. He did, however; hold Hermione's hand tight when they got off the carriage.

Their feet crunched over the new fallen snow. The platform was deathly quiet, not a soul in sight. Everyone else was tucked away in warm homes celebrating the holidays. Dark blackness closed in around them. 

The train hadn't arrived yet and Hermione wrapped her arm around Cesare's waist, pulling him closer.

"Cold?" he asked, absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair.

"A little," she murmured. "Che, are you going to be okay there?"

He started to say something bitter, but saw the sincere concern in her eyes. It touched a nerve in him, something he wasn't used to at all. He didn't say anything sarcastic. Instead, he lied. "Yeah, I was just overreacting before. Maybe some distant family in Egypt is sick or something."

Hermione tried to believe him, but she was too smart and knew he was just trying not to worry her. "Write if anything gets out of hand, okay?"

"Okay."

The train's blurry lights were visible in the distance. Cesare swung his bag over his shoulder, but Hermione held his arm tight.

"My, my. You get attached quite quickly. Your last boyfriend worry you much, no?" he teased gently.

"No, I didn't worry over him," Hermione replied, staring into Cesare's eyes, as if searching for reassurance that everything was going to be alright.

Cesare met her eyes and felt something stir deep inside his chest. A feeling that was out of place in his life. Not that he wasn't used to a girl's attention. But Hermione was different. He felt a strong urge to protect her. The fact that she was worried about him made him feel horribly guilty.

"Don't worry about me," he repeated his thoughts softly. Then his grin returned. "I can't lose my tough image by having pretty girls worried about me."

Hermione laughed. "Just beat up Malfoy again and the Slytherins will go back to spreading rumors about how you're an ex-convict."

The train's whistle sounded loud and deep as it came to a slow, grumbling stop. Cesare glanced up as the scarlet door flew open.

"Time to go," he said, trying to sound more casual and carefree than he felt. This entire trip filled him with foreboding.

Hermione flung her arms around his neck, and he staggered back, surprised. He held her tight and kissed her. Then he slowly released her. 

"_Ashufik__ ba'dayn," he promised._

Hermione shook her head, knowing he was trying to make her smile. "You know it drives me mad when I can't understand what you're saying," she said.

"I'll see you later," he translated. "Because I will. Only a few days." Ignoring the words and feelings he really wanted to express. "Bye," he added quickly and got on the train, without another glance back.

He put his bag on the empty sit next to him. The train was quiet and still, except for the sound of the whirring engine. He leaned back against his comfortable seat and closed his eyes. He tried to will out any part of him that had grown accustomed to the friendliness of Hogwarts. That wouldn't help him at home. Vincenzo would rip him apart if he showed any "weakness."

He couldn't help the curiosity that he felt, however. First Malfoy's strange warning and now a "family emergency?" Why did his uncle want him home so badly? It didn't make sense. Cesare tried to ignore the sense of danger he felt. He was reading too much into this. Vincenzo probably just wanted to dole out some belated, but personal punishment for getting into Gryffindor and beating up Malfoy. Nothing unusual.

He had no idea how VERY wrong he was, or what, or better yet, WHO lay in wait for him in Italy. If he had realized what he was setting into motion, or could have seen into the future, he would have NEVER set foot on that train.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

-_~ Author's Note ~_-

Okay, wow, this was long, lol. My longest chapter yet and I got it up in record time. As I said before, this is NOT beta read and expect there might be a few mistakes. Yet I wanted to write as much as a could before I go away. I really, really want to get the next chapter up! Torture, secrets revealed, all that good stuff. And no romance, finally, lol.

If the quotes in the beginning made no sense to you, don't worry. You might get it after the next chapter, but I you still don't understand, just ignore them.

Oh here's the big secret revealed........Cesare's father is really.......PETER PETTIGREW!

Okay, he's really not. I'm just sleep-deprived and trying to confuse you. My deepest apologies. Anyway, guess what? You want the next, nice fat chapter before my long, EXTENDED holiday? Then review! Please! It will give me incentive to write and not sleep.

Huge thanks to my reviewers! Shukran!

T.H.W

Liz

Barbara Kennedy

Nunki

Carina

Linaevial

HogwartsHottie


	14. The Heir

Disclaimer~ See previous chapters. Much too lazy to type it again.

Author's Note~ I must admit I rushed this chapter so I could update before I left on vacation. Some there is probably some minor mistakes. My apologies. Also, this chapter is more violent than my previous work. It's not too bad, I just thought I would warn you. And there's lots of............foreign cursing. You probably won't understand it, therefore, don't worry.

Chapter Thirteen

The Heir

_"Family," said Hagrid gloomily. "Whatever yeh say, blood's important...."_

_~ Hagrid,_ Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

~_-'*'-_~_-'*'-_~_-'*'-_~_-'*'-_~_-'*'-_~_-'*'-_~_-'*'-_

Cesare took a connecting train from King's Cross to Rome and then on to Naples. The stations were bustling with holiday traffic. The noise and crowds were unbelievable. He spent an hour sitting next to a screaming Muggle baby and was almost relieved when he got off the train and into the waiting limo. The limo drove quickly through the night in a speed that a Muggle car could never master.

When the car pulled up to the large stone villa, Cesare saw a house-elf waiting on the stately marble steps leading inside. The mansion looked dark and quiet and very ominous. He took a deep breath, grabbed his bag, and got out of the car.

The house-elf's wide, terrified eyes looked up at him as he approached. "Master is not back yet. He is leaving orders that he will be home soon."

Cesare rolled his eyes. "I thought this was supposed to be some important emergency," he said sarcastically.

"I is not knowing, Sir."

The elf snatched his bad from his unsuspecting hands and led him through the heavy wooden doors. The spacious stone foyer was nearly as dark as outside. Cesare noticed that none of the wall torches had been lit. It made the room look like a black, cavernous tomb.

"Why are done of the torches lit?" he asked.

"Your uncle likes it dark at night." The elf shrugged her bony shoulders, but Cesare thought she looked more nervous than usual. He pitied the house-elves here. His uncle had several and treated them all equally horrible. They were also instructed to be loyal to Vincenzo only; therefore although Cesare pitied them, he never trusted them.

"Always thought he acted like a vampire," he joked, but the elf didn't smile as she headed for the stairs that led to his rooms. On the way, they passed the long, twisting corridor that led to the dungeons. Cesare thought he heard voices and stopped, straining his eyes to see down the marble hallway. He could have sworn he saw a sliver of orange light under one of the doors.

"Did you hear that?" he asked the elf as he took a step towards the noise. His steps echoed across the corridor and the light vanished.

"It is nothing, Sir. Just the ghosts. They is acting up again." The elf suddenly stood in front of him, blocking his way.

Cesare felt the back of his neck prickle slightly. Something was definitely very wrong here. Ignoring the warning that the back of his mind was screaming at him, he merely nodded. "Right, let's continue then."

They reached his room, which thankfully was lit up, and the elf put his bag in the corner. 

"I will send word when your Uncle is telling me," the elf said briskly. He nodded and the elf brushed by him.

Just as the elf passed him, she stumbled into him. "I is so sorry! So clumsy!" she said in a nervous high-pitched laugh. Cesare didn't notice the small hand that had grabbed something out of his pocket.

Cesare closed the door after the elf, shaking his head slightly. He took the torch out of the wall and lit a few more torches and candles. It was lighter now, but his room didn't even feel the same. The cold marble floors and stone walls were stark and unwelcoming, He found himself longing for the familiar Gryffindor common room. How strange that Hogwart's should feel more comfortable than the place he had grown up. 

"It feels like a tomb in here too," he muttered and went out to the balcony. The villa was situated on a cliff, bordering the ocean. From the balcony, Cesare could see the dark sea churning below. He realized that his room was more like a trap than a tomb. The only way out was either through the door and downstairs or over the balcony. He shuddered as he looked at the distance to the water. That fall would be impossible to survive. You would be either dashed on the rocks or be killed upon impacting the water. He thought he remembered a story about a distant relative committing suicide on the rocks below. The memory chilled his blood.

"You're being paranoid," he told himself out loud. "This is just what he's hoping for. Vincenzo is already trying to frighten you. You are not a child anymore, Cesare. Don't let him bother you."

He grabbed his bag and pulled out his school books. While he was waiting for his uncle, he might as well get some school work done. He was much too tense to sleep. Snape had assigned them a long essay on medicinal droughts. He took some parchment and ink from his desk and started. 

It was past midnight. The candle he was using for light had slowly dwindled down to a short stub. The door suddenly creaked from behind him. The noise split the deathly silence of the room, and he jumped. Cesare slowly turned his head around.

Vincenzo stood in the doorway, not saying anything. His face was shadowed by the dark doorway and his lank black hair hung in his face. Cesare noticed the tip of his wand sticking out from his uncle's long sleeves. It seemed like he was trying to unsuccessfully conceal it.

Cesare eyed his uncle with contempt, not bothering to be polite. "You're late. From your letter I presumed there was some sort of a emergency," he said coolly.

His uncle stepped into the room, but his face was still unreadable. There was a strange glint in his dark eyes. He was watching Cesare very closely. Cesare glared right back at him. His uncle had an ugly scary hooking under one eye and extending to his ear. He was starting to get old and bald, but Cesare knew his very image still provoked fear in the gossipy villagers, who whispered that he was a sorcerer. (How very correct they were) The al-Jalil family had terrified the locals from the time they arrived from Egypt.

Cesare remembered the first time he realized how scared the villagers were of his family. He'd been very young, probably about six. One day he stumbled upon a group of children near his age and before he could say anything, they had backed away from him. A boy twice his size had stumbled back in fear and crossed himself. In terrified whispers they asked "il diavolo" not to hurt them. Il diavolo. The devil. He had stayed away from town after that.

Vincenzo cold voice snapped back Cesare's attention to the present. "There is an emergency. I'm looking at it."

Cesare rolled his eyes in disgust "What? I'M the family emergency? Oh, that's creative," he said sarcastically. "_Ishmi, Vincenzo," he said dismissively and turned back to his essay._

"Watch your tone, boy. You and your recent behavior have been quite troublesome." His voice was unusually calm, for his uncle normally had a quick temper and booming voice.

"My recent behavior?" Cesare didn't even bother trying to sound innocent. He knew exactly what Vincenzo was getting at.

"Yes," he repeated.  "First this ridiculous business with being put in _Gryffindor." He spit the house name as if it were a filthy curse. His uncle slowly paced the room with his hands behind his back, as if he was surveying some sort of interesting animal. "And then I get the news that not only have you beaten up _LUCIUS MALFOY'S_ son, but that your new taste in friends is proving quite ...... __surprising. Really, Cesare......... Harry Potter? And ......." His face curved into a malicious snarl. "A Mudblood girl?"_

Che didn't let his emotions show. How had his uncle known? Could Malfoy really have been spying on him? He tried to control his tone. "My choice in friends is simply that. MINE."

"That's where you're very, VERY wrong, boy. Your mother got involved with a Muggle-loving blood traitor and it will NOT happen again."

Che clenched his fists. "And now you have disgraceful result of that relationship in front of you, don't you, Uncle?" he said repeating something Vincenzo said often. He got to his feet, choosing to glare at his uncle from the same level rather than sitting down.

He expected his uncle to lose his temper right then, but he didn't.

"Fortunately, we can make corrective measures."

"What the hell are you talking about?" 

Vincenzo shook his head with a small smile on his face, like he was explaining something complex to a very small child. "You're too important, Cesare. We can't let you throw your life away like this. So we've sped up something that would have happened eventually anyway."

"Why do you keep saying 'we'?" Che asked suspiciously. This was becoming too strange. He tried to inconspicuously take a step backward towards the balcony and slowly reached into his pocket for his wand. It was empty. His wand was gone.

His uncle noticed Che's bewilderment. "Yes, I had the elf take it," he said answering the unspoken question. "We don't want you to be causing unnecessary problems. Trust me, in a few months you will be very glad this all happened."

That was the final warning Cesare needed to get out of there. Vincenzo was speaking like there were others with him. If that wasn't a sign of total madness, Che didn't know what was.  He remembered the broom he usually kept on the balcony and hoped his uncle hadn't taken that too.

He nodded slowly. "I'm sure," he said. A series of event unfolded rapidly in the next few seconds. Che viciously kicked the desk over at his uncle, hoping to slow him. Vincenzo staggered back as the heavy piece of ancient furniture knocked into him. Cesare bolted for the balcony. When he was outside he looked around frantically. The broom was gone. He was trapped. He grabbed for the railing, wondering is there was a possibility of climbing down the wall. His manic uncle's enraged bellow made him whirl around.

Vincenzo stood less than five meters away from him. Cold fury raged in his eyes. He raised a shaking arm, his wand pointed directly at his nephew's heart. 

In a stupid spurt of bravery, Cesare said the first nasty thing that came to his minds. "_Cus, Vincenzo."*_

"STUPEFY!!!"

Cesare ducked, but it was useless. The spell hit him hard in the chest. That wasn't the worst problem. Vincenzo was a bit too close and screamed the spell a little too loud. And the railing was much too old. As the spell slammed into Cesare, he hit the wall hard. He felt the ancient stone slowly crumble beneath him. Terror filled him as his mind receded, and the railing gave way. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was black water and flashes of dark cliffs rushing up eagerly to consume him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He was eight, sitting outside on Anksenum's dusty steps. Summer holidays had started and he was one of last children still there. The Egyptian sun beat down unmercifully upon his back, and the glare from the bright sky was nearly unbearable, but he ignored both with the famed endurance that had long sustained his ancestors.

He watched from the corner of his eye as another boy, younger than him, rushed from the doors. His black eyes were full of excitement and in his exuberance, he did not even notice Cesare as he ran past. The young boy's sandals made clattering noises as he raced down the wide, stone steps towards the couple waiting for him. The sand he kicked up drifted back in Cesare's direction.

"Bapi!"

The boy threw himself into the waiting arms of a tall robed man. The man smiled and swung the boy high in the air. The child shrieked in delight and the woman standing next to the man clapped her hands together and kissed the boy on both cheeks. The man, (the boy's father, Cesare assumed) laughed as his son pulled determinately at his turban. The trio happily went their way, chattering away in Arabic.

A gentle hand on his shoulder tore his attention away from the reunited family. He glanced behind him, recognized the person, and then jumped to his feet. 

"_As-salaam alaykum, Ustaath_," he said respectfully. The towering white-robed figure of Anksenum's headmaster Khaled Rakha was enough to force respect from any student. But however terrifying he might have appeared, Rakha was a kind, friendly man with a love of learning and a heart big enough to care for all his students.

"_Wa__ alaykum as-salaam," Rakha replied with a warm smile. Then he hesitated slightly and Cesare noticed concern brewing in his dark eyes. He stroked his bushy grey beard thoughtfully. "Cesare, I just received an owl from your uncle," he said slowly._

Cesare felt his heart sinking fast, knowing what the Headmaster was going to say before he opened his mouth again. 

Rakha looked sad and Cesare hated the pity he saw in the professor's face. "Unfortunately, some business has him caught up for the next few days, so he will not be able to come pick you up just yet."

"But term is already over! Where will I stay?" Cesare asked, his voice rising to match his emotions. Vincenzo couldn't even bother to send someone anyone else to pick him up from school?

The headmaster smiled again. "Do you think we would put you out on the street, child? You'll have the school all to yourself for the next few days," he said optimistically, trying to cheer up the boy who had already experienced so much pain.

Cesare nodded without looking the elder wizard in the eye. Rakha knew he was trying not to appear upset and the headmaster had the sudden urge to strangle the boy's uncle for repeatedly doing this to him. His heart broke when he saw his young students hurt like this. Particularly the son of one of his most favored students. The late Camilla al-Jalil would roll over in her grave if she knew how her son was being treated.

"Why don't you come inside, out of the sun for a bit? Professor Ali was telling me before that the chimaera egg has hatched. Would you like to see it?"

"No, I'll stay out here for a bit longer," Cesare muttered.

"It will only be a few day, Cesare. Then you will be able to go back to Italy and see your family."

Cesare looked up at him and the boy's eyes were startling. They held none of innocence and curiosity of a normal eight-year-old's. Instead, they brimmed with the cynicism and bitterness of a much older person. "I have no family," he declared without a trace of emotion in his young voice.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Was he dead? That was the first thought that ran through his aching mind. But he hadn't expected that death would be so.........cold and wet? And his head hurt very badly. He would at least expect after-death to be relatively painless. Then, as feeling slowly returned to his body, he noticed the tight binds that held him securely to a clammy, moldy stone column.

 He heard the voice before he opened his eyes. It was cold and high-pitched and eerily familiar.

"It was quite foolish of you to resist. The only thing you accomplished was nearly killing yourself. Lucky your uncle is skilled with a slowing charm."

Cesare now knew why he was dripping wet. The memories of falling swiftly came back to him. His uncle must have slowed his descent and saved his life. He squinted as he opened his eyes; the salty water dripped down his face and stung his exposed eyes. He glanced around his surroundings and was horrified when he recognized where he was. The dungeon. There were only a few dispersed torches which gave the chamber an orange glow. The walls were thick with grime and blood accumulated through centuries of heinous activities. Cesare had avoided this part of the villa like the plague and now knew his avoidance was justified. Dingy, metal cages and cells lined one wall. He noticed several gleaming white skulls and shards of bone littering the stone and dirt floor. Another wall was adorned with what seemed to be the latest and the oldest tools of the torturing trade. In one corner, a small group of dark robed shapes stood huddled together around a large armchair which faced a small fireplace.

"Who are you?" he demanded angrily. "Why am I in here?" He tugged and pulled at the ropes that bound him, but it was futile. They had to be magical.

The room was very dark, but he noticed a tall, thin cloaked figure stand up from thechair. Cesare could only see his back, but suddenly an unbidden chill raced along his spine.

"Why, don't you recognize my voice? I've been visiting your dreams often enough. And your visions, my young Animagus. Congratulations on that success." He laughed again, a noise like sharp knives upon bone.

The nightmares. The murderous dreams that all ended with the same cold laugh. That voice belonged to the very person standing in front of him right now. And his Animagus vision. _'OPEN YOUR EYES!'_ Well, they were open now, but he didn't like what he saw.

The figure chuckled. "Come now. You have a sharp mind. Can you not unveil my identity? ....... I see not," he chuckled, a sound that would scare even a ghost. He slowly started to turn towards Cesare and his face was revealed. The deathly white skin, red eyes, and serpentine smile greeted him. The face that haunted the dreams and nightmares of the entire wizarding world. The sorcerer that his kind were taught to revile or revere, depending upon one's family. Lord Voldemort.

Cesare's eyes widened in horror. He must be dead, because he only thought to see someone like Voldemort in Hell. No, it couldn't be. It just couldn't be. This was a nightmare. This entire trip was a horrible nightmare. But it felt horribly real. Maybe it was someone else, he thought, but knew he was only lying to himself. Who else could look like that? Who else could make the very air crackle and ripple with fear, death, and pure malignance?

The Dark Lord shook his head in dismay. "How sad. You're speechless. Is that how I am to be treated at this long over-due family reunion?"

Confusion mingled in with his shock and Cesare was able to find his tongue. "Fa-family?" he asked bewildered. His mind was still trying to comprehend what was happening around him. Why would the troublesome nephew of an Italian death Eater warrant Voldemort's presence? 

A malicious smile flitted across his fanglike mouth. "Yes. I don't think we've ever been introduced. Cesare al-Jalil, I am Lord Voldemort. Your dear old grandfather."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Disbelief and surprise flooded Cesare's mind. He knew Voldemort was a psychotic killer. This just had to be some sick delusion. But why had he chosen an insignificant seventeen year old wizard to play it on? 

Assuming that just for witnessing the Dark Lord's personage he would be killed, he lifted his chin bravely and said. "You're a lying murderer."

"Lying, am I? I have no reason to lie, my boy."

"Don't call me that," Cesare snapped. "I'm not your boy. You're lying." It couldn't be true. This was absolutely crazy. But doubt was starting to gnaw on Che's mind. All the times he was forbidden from asking about his parents or any other family.........

Voldemort looked bored. "Don't play games. You know it's true. You are my true heir." He leaned in close to Cesare's face. "You've heard me in your nightmares. But I haven't been controlling your dreams. It was your mind that dreamed of the murders ..... of perfect kills ....... savoring your victory before your victim's terrified face .........Only a person with my blood coursing through their veins could experience such an exhilaration."

"SHUT UP!" he screamed. "You're wrong!"

Voldemort laughed softly in his ear. "My, my. You DO have a quick temper. Wormtail! Chair!" he ordered brusquely.

Cesare saw a short, balding man step out of the corner, pulling an armchair with him. He dragged it over to Voldemort, a nervous smile playing at his lips. 

"Here you are, Master." He scurried away to join the few others in the dungeon. Death Eaters, Cesare now realized.

Voldemort sank into the chair and rested his chin on his long fingers. "You'll have to excuse me. My strength is still building. Of course," his eyes flashed in anticipation. "You will be helping me with that shortly."

"I'll be damned if I do a thing to help you."

"Language, language, Cesare. A very brave comment considering your position. Perhaps you do have the courage of a Gryffindor. Yet I know you have the soul of a Slytherin."

Cesare snorted. If he was going to die, he wouldn't do it bowing down to Voldemort.

"You still don't believe me, do you? Well, let me tell you a little story. It will be amusing to see you break down when you accept the truth." Voldemort leaned back in his chair, although his eyes remained on Cesare's defiant face.

"I must have got the idea before I even left Hogwarts. I already planned then to be the greatest sorcerer this world had ever seen and I knew I could do it. However, there is a very important element to power that most powerful people don't see. That is preservation. Immortality has been my most prized goal. Some of the world's strongest leaders watched their empires turn to dust as they got older if they didn't made careful plans for the future.

I am talking of course about the idea of an heir. I knew I could remain immortal if I lived on in others. I became convinced that I needed a child. My closest friends knew of my plans and were already devout servants. However, one family agreed to go the extra step. The patriarch of that family was a wonderful servant, absolute in his beliefs of blood purity. He had even been exiled from his homeland when he tried to defend his people's sacred heritage from ignorant Muggles. I am speaking of course of the al-Jalil family. I would marry into their family and my wife would produce an heir for me. In exchange, I would grant that family control of their true homeland when I took over. They were a talented, ancient and pure family, and I believed my child would be extremely powerful."

An ugly look of disgust came over his face suddenly, as he if he was remembering something distasteful. "But I was wrong. My daughter failed me. Oh, she was decent at transfigurations, but she had no special talents whatsoever. No ambition. Quite a 'regular' witch," He sighed, but the disdain was still evident in his voice. "Well, I considered _killing the entire family to express my disappointment, but that would have been a waste of several years' investments. So I decided to leave the family, while she grew up. I would arrange a marriage for her when she was older to one of my more powerful followers. She was exceedingly pretty and I knew finding a husband would not be difficult._

That was my second mistake. Trusting my idiotic former wife and her equally stupid husband to watch over Camilla carefully. She fell in love with an English blood traitor and ran off."

Voldemort shook his head and his voice turned nastier. "I was furious. Of course this time I did kill her family for their mistakes. All save her step-brother. He was already a devoted and talented servant of mine, and I spared his life. A wise choice for he has been essential in my plans for you. Then I tracked down Camilla. I had no intention of letting her live either. Although she never knew I was her father, I was terrified of someone figuring out her identity and using it to get to me."

Cesare was trying desperately to control his anger. The only thing he wanted to do was strangle Voldemort. Sitting there calmly, while discussing murdering his only daughter.

Voldemort paid Cesare's twitching no heed and continued with his story. "But when I arrived in London, I recognized her new husband. He was extremely talented and powerful, and I decided to ignore his beliefs until they had a child. I would see how my grandchild turned out, and then make a decision." He laughed at loud, a high-pitched cackle that seemed to make the room grow colder. "I will never forget the irony of who Camilla fell in love with. If only he knew his sweet bride's true identity. But that is another story for another time.

You were born at the time when my power was at its peak. The entire wizarding world was entrapped by and terrified of me. The wondrous rush of such power, the knowledge that you can control and influence millions ........... A feeling like no other in existence."

While Voldemort appeared lost in the memories of his glory days, Cesare tried to work his arms out of the ropes. _'Concentrate on getting away,' he told himself. __Ignore him, it's not true, it's not true, it's not true!_

"If the al-Jalil's had disappointed me before, their failure was wiped away with your birth. I knew in an instant how powerful you would be. You would fulfill your destiny if your mother could not. You would be my heir. Of course, there were some problems with getting you under your uncle's care," he waved his hand derisively. "But it all worked out in the end. Of course I had to kill your mother, can't have more than one of you walking around, can I? I will never forget the look on her face when she realized who I was. A shame really," he said, but there was no trace of remorse in his voice. Cesare started to quake with anger. 

"And getting rid of your father was just as easy. For such a smart man, he fell into my trap eagerly. You were under your uncle's tutelage by the time you were four."

Cesare couldn't ignore it anymore. Everything fit. Reluctant acceptance started to flood his thoughts, and he couldn't push it away. He was too much or a realist. He forced himself to look into Voldemort's ...... his grandfather's face. _'No! Don't think that. He's lying!'_ he mentally screamed at himself

Deciding his life was most likely going to end before dawn, Cesare decided to go down his own way. He opened his mouth, and his characteristic sarcasm poured forth, "So if I were to believe you....... let me get this straight. You killed my mother, your own _daughter and did God know what to my father. You destroyed my family. Why the hell would I help you now?"_

Voldemort didn't seem surprised by Cesare's acceptance or pronouncement. He looked indifferent. "You have no choice. Why also do you think you were sent to Hogwart's? To continue your education? You don't need it; you're already more talented than most of Hogwart's graduates. But you will serve another function. In less than two months your loyalty to me will be absolute and I will have penetrated one of the most defended wizarding areas in the world. Can you imagine? Not even Dumbledore will suspect you. To have a spy in that school is priceless. To have my heir is even more so." Malicious glee lit up his snake-like face. "I wonder if Harry Potter would sleep comfortably, knowing that I have an easy assassin in the same room?"

"NEVER!" Cesare yelled. "I would die before I served you."

Voldemort shook his head in annoyance. "You simply do not understand. You will be under my total control."

Voldemort started to say something else, but Cesare had gotten his arms free. With a cry of rage he snatched his hand out towards Voldemort's wand hand. His mind kept repeating Voldemort's calm words about destroying his family.

But he didn't reach the dark wizard. Voldemort was on his feet, with his wand out and looked like he had been expecting this.

"Crucio!" he said in a calm, almost bored tone.

Cesare fell to the floor as pain he never felt before suddenly consumed him. In his worst nightmares, he couldn't imagine pain as bad as this. His skin felt like was on fire and lying on a bed of sharp knives at the same time. As he writhed in agony on the floor, he couldn't contain the screams that erupted out of his mouth.

Then suddenly the pain was gone, and he was left gasping on the floor.

Voldemort stood over his head, looking disappointed and annoyed. "Now, REALLY! I killed my own daughter; don't you think I have ways of making a seventeen-year-old wizard cooperate? You are severely testing my limited patience. This isn't a difficult concept. Misbehave and I will more than happy to show you several types of Dark curses. Think of it as a 'learning experience'."

Voldemort crossed his long arms over his black robe and surveyed the teenager on the floor. "Yes, I believe Vincenzo's advice is correct. The ritual must be performed immediately. Let us begin."

At his command, the small group of Death Eaters moved forward. There were only a few present. His uncle, the man called Wormtail, and two other. A black-haired woman with a nasty expression, and..........of course........Lucius Malfoy. The silvery-haired wizard sneered at him.

Cesare wasn't sure what exactly this ritual was, but quickly decided that he didn't want to stay around and find out. The Cruciatus curse had undone whatever magic was done to the ropes. Voldemort had crossed to the other side of the dungeon and was angrily shouting things at Wormtail and his uncle. They were crowded around a large black cauldron that was emitting a nasty green steam. 

Cesare closed his eyes and pictured the wolf. He remembered every detail of the shiny black fur, amazing senses, and powerful jaws. It worked. When he opened his eyes again, the darkened dungeon was clearer and he smelled the strong scent of the potion brewing in the cauldron across the room. He scanned the room and saw a twisting stone staircase leading up and out of the dungeons. He knew that would lead to the corridor and front doors.

He crouched and prepared to run for his life. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Voldemort start to turn slowly. He saw his mouth open and scream something. But it was already too late. Cesare was off and running. He reached the stairs at a speed humans could never reach and raced down the corridor. He skidded to a stop on the marble floor and then turned towards the main doors. He was within ten feet of freedom when he heard a voice yell a spell behind him.

The room filled with a quick flash of light and with a small pop Cesare became human again and stumbled, hitting the floor hard. He heard running feet nearing him and tried to scramble up, but it was too late.

Vincenzo and Wormtail grabbed his arms roughly and began pulling him back towards the dungeons.

"Conjure up some ropes!" Vincenzo yelled frantically at Wormtail as he struggled to pin down Cesare.

He twisted and kicked and fought as best as he could, screaming and cursing in Italian and Arabic. The terrible knowledge filled him about what was planned in that dungeon. Voldemort was somehow going to be able to control his mind. Cesare couldn't let that happen. He hit his uncle hard in the face.

"Damn you!" his uncle swore at him and pulled out his wand angrily. "This will teach you, _figlio_ di puttana_! CRUCIO!!!!"_

The pain felt worse this time and Cesare lost all ability to struggle. Vincenzo and Wormtail ignored his pain-filled cries as they dragged him down the steps back to the dungeon. Vincenzo removed the curse, and he crumpled to the floor.

Voldemort's rage was terrible to behold. "That was very foolish," he hissed. "Lucius," he asked icily. "Tell me how long a person can withstand the Cruciatus Curse without being permanently damaged?"

Ice filled Cesare's mind as he listened wordlessly to Voldemort. No, no. He couldn't take the curse another time. He'd rather kill himself. _'Oh God, anyone, please, someone help me,'_ his mind begged.

The elder Malfoy looked uncertain. "Well, Master........it is thought a person will go insane if this curse in uninterrupted for over ten minutes.

"Excellent. Well, Cesare, I hope you disprove that theory. Why don't we try for fifteen?"

Before he could open his mouth, the curse was upon him again. Terror, torture, horror washed over him as unbearable pain wracked over his body. He wasn't aware of the primal screams that tore from his mouth. It was like being cut, dismembered, burned, and every other terrible things people used to inflict wrath on their fellow beings. As the long seconds ticked by, the pain increased. Black dots appeared, blocking out his vision and obscuring his mind.

After what honestly felt like hours, he was dimly aware of the pain ending. The exhaustion struck him. Cesare couldn't even open his eyes, let alone make any attempt to resist Voldemort. His mind was in another place, fighting to return to his body, fighting to force him to get up and try to escape again.

"Well, he doesn't appear to be frothing at the mouth yet. You were wrong, Lucius." Voldemort turned his attention towards Malfoy.

Lucius gaped in obvious fear. "My Lord, I apologize profusely. I shall make an effort not to displease you again."

"Yes, see that you do that," Voldemort said idly. "Carry on with the preparations." The four Death Eaters rushed to do their Master's bidding.

The white fiendish face stared upon Cesare's prone form. "Let that be a lesson," he hissed. "The fact that my blood runs in you only means that I will expect you to hold to higher standards than my other followers. I killed my father. I killed my daughter. I killed her family. I will not hesitate to kill you."

Cesare looked at him with pure hate in his eyes and didn't respond.

Voldemort glared at him and shook his head. "Still no manners, but ......." he raised his wand suddenly and smiled when Cesare flinched. "Even the most vicious stray can be broken."

He strode over to a round wooden table covered with a musty tablecloth. There were large dark stains on the cloth that looked suspiciously like blood. Also on the table were several antiquated book, surrounded by a few vials and a large dagger. Voldemort lifted the dagger and let the firelight dance along its sharp edges. The knife was a masterpiece. Emerald and gold were inlaid in the shiny bone handle and it looked sharp enough to cut through air.

Voldemort continued to stare at the knife, but spoke. "This belonged to Salazar Slytherin, himself, to be used in this very purpose. Now there are a few difficulties in becoming a true magical heir, Cesare. The first is this ritual. After we are done here, you will leave possessing the very same powers that I have." He walked back over to stand in front of the young wizard. Vincenzo had chained one of his wrists above his head.

"Do you know what a gift that is, boy? You will be a Parseltongue and capable of advanced magic most of your instructors can't even imagine doing. Forget studying," he said with a laugh. Then his face turned cold again. "You don't appear very thankful."

As Cesare recovered from the curse, his rage started to build again. A life with his parents had been torn away from him. His mother murdered, and possibly his father as well. The abusive years spent with Vincenzo were present in his thoughts. All because of this monster in front of him. And he had done the same to countless families. He felt his damnable attitude start to reassert itself. 

"The only thing I am thankful for is that now I know Vincenzo not a blood relative of mine," he hissed.

Anger flashed in Voldemort's red cat-like eyes. "While you may think your wit is amusing, rest assured it is not. You are being very repetitive with this disbelief and anger. You are starting to become boring. And I HATE boredom," he seethed. "Isn't that right?" he asked the Death Eaters behind him, who of course murmured their complete and utter agreement with every word that Voldemort spoke.

"And therein enters a crucial problem about my gift. I can't very well give you my powers and then have you confess to Dumbledore and use your new talent against me." He wore an expression of mock horror at the idea.

"Therefore, I had to devise a way to control you. That damnable, traitorous jinn was able to unknowingly help me with that you will also take on aspects on my personality and mannerisms. This part of the transformation will take longer to show up, but in about four fortnights, it will be complete." He threw back his head and laughed. "The anticipation! You have no idea what it is like to wait YEARS for your goal to be accomplished. But it will be." 

He grabbed Cesare's chin and stared at him with a maniacal glint in his eyes. "You will be PERFECT. Imagine what we can do, with our power combined. We will rule the world."

Cesare finally spoke up after jerking away from Voldemort. "You're mad and foolish enough to think you can pull that off when you failed the first time? Brought to a powerless nothing by an infant!"

Voldemort hit him hard in the face. "No, boy. It is YOU who are foolish. But not for long."

He whirled to face his followers. "What is the delay!? Let us get on with this already!" he said and angrily pushed past them. Wormtail scurried towards the fire and filled a large vial with the emerald liquid from the cauldron. He approached Cesare with terrified caution. Cesare glared at him, and Wormtail nearly dropped the vial.

"M-m-master, I do not believe I c-can make him drink this," he stuttered. Vincenzo grabbed the vial and shoved Wormtail out of the way.

"Hopeless idiot," he muttered. He grabbed Cesare's head fearlessly and pried his mouth open. He poured the burning liquid down his throat. It felt like drinking glass shards. He tried not to choke.

Vincenzo stepped back and tossed the vial on the floor. It shattered and the small droplets of liquid burned into the stone and smoked. Voldemort looked pleased. He picked up one of the books and flipped to a worn page. He read something carefully, and then put the book down. He ran his hand fondly over the cover. 

"Another artifact of our very noble ancestor. The journal of Salazar Slytherin. This manuscript has been essential in my ascent to power. Now it will continue to help me in my life's work."

He picked up the lethal dagger and without any hesitation sliced his palm deeply. Indifferent to the crimson blood dripping onto the floor, which had already absorbed much blood in the past centuries, he started an incantation. The ancient words themselves sounded dangerous and full of evil. He finished and turned towards Cesare with the bloody dagger in his hand. His eyes were glazed and he looked like he was possessed. 

Cesare saw Voldemort approach him as if in slow motion. There was nothing he could do to stop the Dark Lord and the thought filled him with sick foreboding. Voldemort grabbed the hand that was chained above Cesare's head. He raised the dagger and Tony felt a searing pain across his palm. He looked up to see bright blood dripping slowly down his forearm. Voldemort clasped Cesare's hand in his own bloody one, held his wand tightly in the other, and uttered something unintelligible.

The dungeon was suddenly filled with a gushing wind. It was so strong it could have stirred a Saharan sandstorm. Blinding white-gold light shot out from between their clasped hands. Cesare felt the searing pain in his palm slowly spread down his arm and into the rest of his body. It was worse than the Cruciatus Curse. He started to twitch. It felt like his very soul was literally being torn from him.

The same thing was happening to Voldemort. All of sudden Voldemort threw his head back and a reddish haze rose swiftly from his body and towards Cesare. The haze surrounded him for a moment before quickly soaking into his skin.

Cesare slowly began to feel warm strength filling his limbs, as if he was on a severe adrenaline rush. Visions suddenly swarmed his mind, too quickly for him to recognize any of them.

The light suddenly flashed scarlet and two wizards were forcefully thrust apart. Voldemort was thrown back and landed sprawled on the floor. Wormtail quickly helped him to a chair, where he slunk back exhausted.

Cesare was simply smashed against the wall he was already chained too. He thought it should be impossible to survive this sort of physical torture and abuse. The chains had burst during the spell and his arm fell to his side. He felt weak and sick all over. He not only felt physically ill, but he felt incorrigibly corrupted. Voldemort had accomplished the ritual. Cesare had never taken much faith in Divination, but he knew that something had been forever changed and his future would be a much darker place. 

Voldemort was already recovering. He forced himself out of the chair and staggered towards his wand lying on the table, pushing away the help of his dark servants. 

"No, I will finish this myself," he ordered in a hoarse voice. He dangled the wand from his unusually long, pale fingers and pointed it at Cesare.

"Morsmordre," he croaked.

Cesare felt something burning into the underside of his left forearm. He cast his eyes downward and saw a bright red skull with a snake protruding from its mouth drawn swiftly on his arm. It flashed jet black and then faded into his skin. Cesare was speechless and could only look at the now unmarred flesh with horror. The Dark Mark.

"It will reappear when the transformation is complete, two months from now, and you will embrace your ancestry with pride." Voldemort seemed more rejuvenated by the moment. The gleeful malicious look was back in his eyes.

"But in all the ways that are most important, you are one of us now. A Death Eater and my true heir." His voice held nauseating pride at his accomplishment. 

Cesare barely heard the murmurs of congratulations that Voldemort was being given by the other Death Eaters. His voice kept echoing the same phrase over and over again. _'A Death Eater and my true heir.' He was a Death Eater and Voldemort was going to use him to spy on the only group of people to every show any caring for him. And he couldn't think a damned thing to stop it._

His attention was brought back when Wormtail suddenly pulled him up and helped him into a chair. He tried to focus through bleary eyes.

"You are now his superior, Cesare. Although, with Wormtail that isn't saying much. It is his duty to make sure you are comfortable."

Cesare blinked in confusion. He was so dizzy. Why was the world spinning so fast? He couldn't keep a straight thought in his mind.

Voldemort seemed to have read his mind. "This sickness will pass in less than a week. Your body must get adjusted to its new power." He looked at Cesare closely, his eyes seeming to burn through his skull.

"I believe I will give you one more gift, before I erase all memory of this night from your mind. It is a question you are yearning to have answered, particularly since attending Hogwart's. Do you know what I speak of?" Nasty malevolence played around the Dark Lord's cancerous smile.

The question. The question that had plagued him his entire life. "My ...... my father ......" he said weakly. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know anymore. He had more than his share of family secrets tonight.

"Yes. Would you like to know his name?"

In spite of the fact that what he really wanted to do was strangle Voldemort with his bare hands, Cesare found himself slowly nodding his head.

Voldemort smiled that same fake benevolent smile that could turn vicious and cold in an instant. He said the name and waited for Cesare's reaction.

Cesare was confused for a moment, trying to place the name. He knew he had heard it before, but where? Then he recognized it. No, it couldn't be. It didn't make sense. How could he be ........?"

Voldemort enjoyed the look of raw bewilderment on Cesare's face.

"He was told that you were accidentally killed as a child. A terrible drowning," Voldemort said with casual indifference. "I will see you very soon." He raised his wand high .........

"OBLIVIATE!"

Cesare felt what seemed to be like a rush of thoughts, visions, and sounds flee his mind. Then nothing, but mild confusion. Where was he? Why did he feel so sick? He heard a strange voice sneer, "Might as well stun him," before blackness rushed over him once again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

-_~ Author's Note ~_-

Oh, wait.........Was that the part where I was supposed to write in his father's name? Must have forgotten.......

Well, I won't tell you that secret just yet, but I did tell you a lot! Okay, maybe not things you expected, but nevertheless.

I can't believe I was able to finish this in only a few days, but I did get it up before I went away.

*Notes on the other languages~ Okay, I occasionally branch off into Italian and Arabic in this. It won't really limit your understanding of the chapter if you don't know what it means. But in this chapter, I used a little.......um.......cruder language. For your own safety never, EVER say "cus" unless you are looking for a fight in a Middle Eastern bar. And beware of "figlio do puttana" as well. Understand? I won't be held responsible for some innocent tourist getting beat up because they read my story. Lol

Okay, now guess what? GO REVIEW! Please! I am despaired. 

And of course, my thanks to those who did review! Thank you! Molto grazie! Shukran!

THW

Barbara Kennedy

Carina

Nunki

October Spirit

Linaevial

HogwartsHottie


	15. Returning and Recovering

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of those much richer than myself.

Author's Note: I proofread this at about three am, so please endure with any mistakes. It was either update now or in two days.

~*~*~*~

Chapter 14

Returning and Recovering

~*~*~*~

_Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it._

_~ George Satmayana_

_-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-_

A feverish haze enshrouded his mind the entire train ride back. He was very surprised he was even able to get on and off at the right stations. He sat against the hard plastic seat with his head in hands the entire time, occasionally muttering to himself. Quite a few Muggles shot suspicious glares in his direction, but he ignored them. He didn't care about Muggles, didn't care where he was, didn't care what was going on. Everything had a dreamy blur and cloudy fog veiled his brain. He didn't remember anything about what seemed like a short, uneventful trip home, and his thoughts refused to dwell on that subject. At one point, he remembered waking up and noticing a thin scar trailing across his palm. 'What was that from?' he wondered idly, gazing at the healed gash. A small voice in the back of his mind told him that question wasn't important, and in his very exhausted state, he obeyed the voice.

The train finally pulled to a slow, rumbling stop in a snowy white Hogsmeade. Cesare clutched his bag with one hand, and staggered off the Hogwarts Express. He squinted to see through the swirling snow. He focused his attention on the blurry outline of a huge man.

"Ya got yer bag wit ya? Good. Les' go then," the man said and opened the door of a waiting stagecoach.

Cesare stared at him through uncomprehending, glazed eyes. "You're ....... you're Hagrid," he said stupidly.

Hagrid looked peered closely at him. "You don't look so well, lad. Perhaps I bes' ......."

He was interrupted when Cesare suddenly stumbled forward, and collapsed to the snowy ground. Hagrid immediately hurried to the crumpled figure and helped him to his feet.

"Yes. Yes, I believe ya bes' be going straight ta Madame Pomfrey!" he said anxiously and helped Cesare aboard the stage coach. The ride back was bumpy, and as they passed the stone gargoyles guarding the entrance, Hagrid let out a sigh of relief. The young wizard next to him was getting greener with every passing moment.

As Hagrid helped him into the castle and to the infirmary, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "What 'APPENED ta ya?"

Che looked up at him. His eyes were startlingly blank. "I don't know. I don't remember," he said honestly.

Madame Pomfrey was busing measuring out Pepper-Up potion when they entered. She took one look at Cesare's feverish face.

"Help him to a bed, Hagrid," she ordered and swooped over Che. She peered into his eyes and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. A perplexed expression twisted her features.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you simply had the flu, but something ....... something is not right about your look." She looked lost in her thoughts for a moment, and then went to a cabinet behind her desk. She pulled out appeared to be a thermometer, but instead of degrees, it read in numbers from one to ten.

"I think you may have reacted badly to a spell. Do you have any magical allergies that you are aware of? Boomslang? Rat hearts? Dragon scales?"

Cesare shook his head weakly. She stuck the thermometer under his tongue and waited. After a few minutes, she read it. 

"I was correct. Mr. Jalil, have you performed any strange curses or made any unusual potions in the last twenty-four hours?" she asked in a stern voice.

"No, I just remember waking up on the train and feeling this way."

He could tell from her cross face that she didn't believe a word he said.

Madam Pomfrey walked Hagrid out and Che heard her mutter, "Probably just doing some spells he wasn't supposed to and it backfired. I'll keep an eye on him. Thank you for helping him here."

Hagrid left and Madame Pomfrey came back with a smoking goblet. "You're obviously exhausted. You need your rest. This sleeping potion should help."

Cesare drank it quickly and immediately felt his eyelids close.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione and Harry walked down towards Hagrid's small hut near the forest, their boots crunching into the newly-fallen snow. He had told them to stop by for an after dinner chat. Harry knocked on the heavy door. He heard Fang howling inside, but there was no other answer.

"Hagrid?" he yelled at the window. Hermione looked perplexed. She shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders.

"He did say we could stop by now, right?"

Harry nodded. He started to bang on the door again, but a loud voice from behind stopped him.

"Hey, Harry. Give the door a rest ther'," Hagrid said with a smile as he walked towards his home.

"Hullo, Hagrid," Hermione said warmly.

"Sorry I'm late. Jus' helping Cezare aJail' back inta tha school."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "He's back already?" she asked anxiously. "I thought he wouldn't be back for a few days?"

Hagrid shrugged. "Beats the heck outta me. Looked a bit off-color so I took him ta the infirmary wing. Tha's why I was late meeting yer."

Hermione paled as Hagrid let them into the cabin. "He looked sick, though?"

"Yeah. Bit dazed too. Madame Pomfrey thinks he was doing some magic that backfired on 'im."

Harry and Hermione exchanged dark glances, each thinking the same thing.

Their visit with Hagrid wasn't as enjoyable as usual. Hermione kept looking longingly towards the door, but Hagrid didn't appear to notice. He was talking excitedly about dragons.

"We haven' done much wit 'em in class. Thought I'd speak to Charlie Weasley about bringin' one fer a lesson. Dumbledore seems ta think it be interesin'. Course I'd need some more handlers for safety."

Harry smiled at Hagrid, trying to ignore the fact that he never wanted to be up close to a dragon again after the Tri-Wizard Tournament. "I bet the class would like that," he lied, relishing the look of terror on Malfoy's face when he learned he had to be within fire-breathing range of a dragon.

Hagrid looked at the clock over the mantle. "I been keeping ya! You bes' be heading up to your common room before curfew." He stood up to open the door for them.

"Thanks for visiting!" he beamed as they walked out. 

"Anytime," they chorused and hurried to the castle. 

"What do you think happened to Che?" Hermione whispered as they headed to the hospital wing.

"I dunno. Maybe he's just sick," Harry said hopefully. He didn't Hagrid would have mentioned anything about Cesare if he had been covered in bruises. He probably would have gone straight to Dumbledore.

They knocked on the door and Madame Pomfrey opened it looking annoyed. She narrowed her eyes when she saw who was there.

"You!" she accused Harry. "I thought you were so anxious to leave? Now you're back again so soon?"

Hermione quickly intervened before Harry could worsen the situation. "Please, Madame Pomfrey. We just want to visit Cesare. We'll be quick," she promised quickly.

Madame Pomfrey grumbled under her breath, but she swung the door open. "Five minutes, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded, and she and Harry walked towards the only occupied bed. Hermione immediately knew what Hagrid meant by off-color. Cesare's olive toned skin was unusually pale and sallow. Dark circles hung under his closed eyes. His black eyelashes fluttered open at their approach, and he cracked a weak smile. 

"Hey, guys," he croaked. His voice sounded tired and harsh.

Cesare's appearance startled Harry. "What happened to you?!" he demanded, the question plaguing his mind.

Che tilted his head up towards Harry and the glazed look in his eyes bothered him even more. 

"I, uh, I just got sick, I guess," he stammered out. He sounded as surprised as they were at his condition.

Hermione looked concerned and shot a look at Madame Pomfrey's back. She was busy mixing something on her desk. Hermione leaned in closer to Cesare and whispered, "So what happened? Why did he send for you? We thought you'd becoming back with the other students."

Cesare opened his mouth, but hesitated. He didn't know how to answer that question. And then suddenly he remembered. A beautiful explanation suddenly appeared in his mind, so rational he was amazed he had forgotten it.

"It was my grandfather," he answered smoothly. "He passed away. He'd been sick for awhile," he added. The words felt rehearsed.

"Your grandfather? You've never spoken about him before." Hermione asked, puzzled.

"I barely knew him." Che shrugged. "My presence at the funeral was a mere formality."

Harry narrowed his eyes. He barely knew him? Was that supposed to explain the utter lack or emotion and grief in his voice when he spoke about a family member's death? 

"Well, I'm sorry," Harry said.

"I am too," Hermione spoke up.

Cesare shrugged again. "It's not a big deal."

Hermione was slightly shocked at his indifference. She knew his family situation was ..... a bit difficult, but he didn't seem to have any reaction at all to his grandfather's passing. She persisted, believing that maybe he was hiding his grief. "But still, he WAS your grandfather. I'm sure his loss comes hard."

Cesare shook his head. "No. I didn't know him, okay? Can we end this discussion?" he asked curtly. He wasn't sure why, but something in him was telling him to be quiet. _'Why were Harry and Hermione being so noisy?'_ the voice asked. This wasn't any of their business.

Hermione took a small step back, hurt at his sharp voice. Harry looked equally surprised, but quickly masked his reaction, his mind spinning with thoughts.

"Okay, fine. I understand." He changed the subject quickly by bringing out a large bar of Honeydukes chocolate. He saw Cesare eye the bar.

"Well, I was gonna give you this, but now I don't know. I wouldn't want to make this little, weak patient any worse ........."

"You better hand it over or this little, weak patient might have to hit a Bludger at you when he gets better," Che said warningly, even if his voice sounded a little strained.

Harry smiled teasingly and tucked the candy bar under his pillow. "Don't let Madame Pomfrey see that or she'll PUT me in the hospital wing again," he joked.

Hermione looked unapprovingly at Harry, but didn't voice her concern about breaking rules. Instead she gave Cesare a small smile. "Well, at least we still have a few days off. So if you're stuck here for a bit, at least you won't miss any classes."

Both Harry and Cesare looked at her with identical looks of bewilderment and disbelief.

"'Mione ........ how ........" Harry started.

"Is that a good thing?" Che finished.

Hermione pursed her lips together in disapproval. "You mean you would like to miss classes and fall behind?" she asked dangerously.

"Yeah, why not?"

She sighed, a small sound that implied her troubles over dealing with these underachievers.

But Cesare looked troubled. "You say break isn't over? How- how long was I gone?" he asked, confused.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, thinking that he was playing a joke on her. "You don't SERIOUSLY mean that you don't know how many days you were gone?"

Che blinked. "No, at least I don't think so," he said slowly.

"Three days," Harry answered before Hermione could get a word in.

Hermione however was insistent and stubborn. "Now, just WAIT a second. You don't know how long you were gone? How is that possible?"

Cesare opened his mouth, but wasn't sure what to say. He wished he hadn't brought up the topic again. His mind was still so foggy; he couldn't think straight.

Madame Pomfrey saved him, however; in the nick of time.

"It's been over ten minutes!" she shrieked. "You're interfering in the recovery of this patient!"

Not wanting to endure anymore of Madame Pomfrey's wrath, Hermione and Harry decided to duck out rather quickly. 

"Bye, Che. Feel better," Harry said.

"You'll be out in no time," Hermione promised. Cesare smiled, but it was a mere, weak shadow of his normal cocky grin.

"Ciao."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm as soon as they closed the door of the infirmary and whirled him around to face her.

"Something happened," she said in an insistent whisper. 

Harry shook his head. "Not here." He pulled her down the dark hallway and into an empty corridor leading to the kitchens. It was deathly quiet; even the portraits were silent.

"Now, what did you want to say?" Harry looked at her. A slither of moonlight streamed in from a high window, illuminating her worried face.

"Harry, I have a really bad feeling about his trip home. Cesare is completely out of it. He didn't even know how long he was gone for and ....... and look at him! He looks exhausted and sick and ........ I just don't know. But something is very wrong!"

"I know. I know. I think you're right," Harry agreed.

"You do?" Hermione seemed surprised. "Why did you want to talk about it over here then?" She gestured to the silent, empty hallway.

"It's just .......... well." Harry hesitated, unsure whether or not to continue. "Something Hagrid told me stuck in my mind."

"What did he say about what?"

Harry took a breath, considered his option, but his concern for Hermione weighed heavily on his conscience. He told her about his conversation with Hagrid concerning Cesare.

Hermione's reaction surprised him. Instead of being simply quizzical, she was angry.

Narrowing her eyes, she said loudly, "Well, I think he's wrong! He doesn't know Cesare at all! I honestly don't give a fiddler's fart who his father is! Cesare is our friend!"

Harry raised his palms. "I'm not saying Hagrid is right. I just thought you should know. Besides," he said, lowering his voice so Hermione wouldn't yell again. "You have to admit. He's not exactly the most trusting person. Do we really know him that well at all?"

Anger flashed in Hermione's eyes. "I'm not listening to this. 'I' trust him. And I think I know him better than you!" She whirled around and stomped off.

Harry watched her leave with widened eyes, shocked at how upset she had become. Why was she so defensive of Cesare?

He mulled the question over as he headed back to the common room. He remembered when he had walked in on Christmas Eve. For a second that night he had thought ......... that maybe ......

No, it wasn't possible. Cesare and Hermione? No way.

But the possibility was still creeping up on him when he got to his dormitory. 

"Don't think on it, Potter!" he said exasperated to himself.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The last days of Christmas break were long. Hermione was still being icy with Harry and neither of them was permitted to visit Cesare again. Madame Pomfrey seemed to be holding a grudge lately and firmly believed that Che wouldn't get better if he was allowed visitors.

Finally the Hogwarts Express pulled in and all the students came back. Harry was relieved to have Ron back and quickly explained at dinner that night why Hermione was acting bizarre. "Weird," Ron commented as he shoved mashed potatoes in his mouth. "I tell ya, that kid gets stranger and stranger."

Harry shrugged and scooped up some steak and kidney pie. "I dunno. I think we're friends, but he's still disappears a lot and doesn't seem to tell us stuff. I think he has problems trusting other people."

Ron nodded. "Maybe. But you have to admit, what Hagrid said makes me suspicious. His family makes the Malfoy's look like a buncha fluffy kittens. Cesare doesn't even know who his father is. But," he pointed his fork in the air to emphasize something. "Know what? The teachers DO act weird around him. Kinda like they did at first around you, but I dunno. In a different way," he mused.

Harry looked puzzled. "I wish we knew." He looked down the table suddenly. 

"Hey, where IS Hermione? She hasn't welcomed you back yet."

"Maybe she ate earlier," Ron suggested. "We'll probably see her back on the common room later." Harry nodded.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione walked past the hospital wing. Where WAS he? Cesare had snuck her out a note explaining that he was going to leave the hospital wing after dinner. She had finished early so she could meet him.

She walked out of the wing towards the staircase landing. She saw a familiar silhouette standing with his back to her at the railing.

Cesare had his hands clasped behind his back and seemed to be staring out, deep in contemplation.

Hermione smiled and walked towards him. She was suddenly struck by the thought that he looked taller. He seemed to be holding himself differently, more powerfully.

"Sneaking up on me?" he asked suddenly, but playfully, without turning around. Hermione came up behind him and wrapped her arm around his waist.

"How did you know I was there?" she joked.

An enigmatic smile curled on his face. "I just knew." There was a strange glint in his eyes.

"You look much better," she remarked. And he did. He almost looked healthier and stronger than he usually did. He held her waist gently, but she even thought she felt more power in his already strong arms.

"Thanks. I think I looked as if I was on my deathbed before," he joked.

"Yeah, you were pretty sick. Did she ever figure out what was wrong with you?"

Cesare shrugged. "No, but it's not important. I am fine now."

Hermione trailed her fingers down his face. "You look alright to me," she smiled. He leaned down and kissed her lightly.

She looked up at him in wonderment when he pulled away. "But ...... there's something different about you. I can't put my finger on it."

He laughed. "You're crazy. I am just the same Cesare. I promise," he assured her.

Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked down the hallway. But she couldn't let that nagging feeling go. There WAS something different about him. It was in his posture, his smile, even his words. What was it?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

-_~ Author's Note ~_-

The next chapter is finished and ready to be posted, but please write me some reviews first! I've only gotten one for the past three chapters! Please!

Thanks to T.H. and Carina, as always.


	16. Wandless Magic and Potions Genius?

Disclaimer ~ Read one of the ones in my earlier chapters if you really feel the dire need to do so.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter Fifteen

Wandless Magic and Potions Genius?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_"Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" yelled Hermione; her hair was coming out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger._

_"Oh yeah?"__ Ron yelled back. "What's that?"_

_"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"........_

_............. Harry didn't say anything. He liked being back on speaking terms with Ron too much to speak his mind right now – but he somehow thought that Hermione had gotten the point much better than Ron had._

_~ Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_

_"Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world."   
~ Ron_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lessons started up again and the teachers seemed to be keeping their students busier than ever. McGonagall was fretting over the class's inability to transfigure other people, a skill she had just recently begun to teach them. N.E.W.T. midterm reports would begin in two weeks. The Transfigurations room bustled with the sounds of busy, frustrated pupils.

"MR LONGBOTTOM! No!" she shrieked as Neville raised his wand over a terrified Dean. Neville looked up with widened eyes as the professor approached, his round face growing apprehensive.

"Wha....what? I thought this is what we were supposed to be doing?" he stuttered, completely flabbergasted.

"No, no, no. You're going about it all wrong," she said and hurried over to him.

The four students in the far, sunlit corner turned back to their work. Ron shook his head. He, Harry, Hermione, and Cesare were practicing among themselves. Well-- practicing wasn't the best way to describe it. Harry was absentmindedly twirling his wand and staring at the swirling dust glittering in the thin rays of sun that streamed through the windows with a faraway look in his eyes. Ron was lounging on top of a heavy desk, taking full advantage of Professor McGonagall's preoccupation with Neville to slack off

"I wouldn't want to be his partner. Imagine if he turned you into half a goat and you couldn't get unstuck?" he whispered, with dramatically raised brows.

"Ron! That's not nice!" Hermione shot back in an angry whisper. She was the only one making a real effort to work on the spell, and she occasionally threw disgusted looks over her shoulder at the other boys. It was clear she did support their slacking-off. 

Ron shrugged and looked towards Harry for support, but Harry quickly turned his laugh into a cough. He wasn't about to go upsetting Hermione again so soon after she'd finally begun talking to him. Instead, he stared at the floor as if it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever laid his eyes upon, ignoring Ron's expectant face.

"Cabrata magime," Cesare incanted easily and with a poof! Ron became a gray mountain goat before he could start arguing with Hermione. Now it was her turn to laugh, as the angry russet-colored goat behhed* in annoyance

"Emigam cabrata," he said with another swish of his wand and Ron became a scowling human again

"Very good, Mr. al-Jalil," McGonagall commented from across the room where she was helping Neville.

Ron shook his head slowly and stared at his hands, which had just been hooves.

"How do you DO that? You're not normal," he said. His annoyance was obvious. While Harry and Hermione had become friends with Cesare, Ron hadn't. He still mistrusted the foreign student and had to struggle to remain polite. Harry couldn't really understand why. But the tension between the two was always present. But while Ron lost his temper with Cesare, Cesare never lost his cool. Harry appreciated this effort to keep a semblance of peace.

Cesare shrugged. "It's not really that hard." He tried to look casual as he slid back into a seat.

But Ron continued to rigorously shake his head. "Wonder girl here," he said motioning to Hermione (who didn't look this least bit insulted when she was called that) with his hand, "Can't even manage more than a pair of fuzzy ears and horns so far. It's just not natural. You hiding some secret powers on us, or something?" he joked, but there was a hard edge to his voice.

Cesare managed a half smile and they went back to practicing. But what Ron had said stuck in his mind. Ever since school had started up again, he'd been finding everything extremely easy. Even Potions, his worst subject! He hadn't studied for a class since break.

McGonagall's strict voice broke through his thoughts.

"Alright, class. I believe we will call it a day. But you _MUST practice this! You're very behind!" she demanded shrilly._

"Also, I need to see Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, and Mr. al-Jalil."

All five students quickly exchanged glances and excited smiles, guessing what this was about. The rest of the class filed out of the room. McGonagall waited until they were gone before turning her attention to the students left behind. 

"Well, you can probably guess what this is about. Your Animagi classes will be starting next week. We will all meet in this classroom on Tuesdays and Fridays right after dinner. I suggest you be well-rested and relaxed for your first class. You need to be mentally prepared." She bid them good-bye and they left, chattering excitedly. 

Neville looked downcast; a sad expression drifted across his face as he walked along the stone corridor.

Hermione glanced at him and then asked. "What's wrong, Neville? Aren't you excited?"

He smiled weakly. "Oh yeah, I bet it would be great to be an Animagi....... you'll have to tell me about it." He added in a bitter undertone.

She immediately stopped and fiercely glared at him. "What are you talking about?"

The other boys had kept walking, not noticing that Hermione and Neville had left their group. Their loud voices echoed off the walls, muting the conversation between Hermione and Neville.

"Nothing," he muttered. "Let's catch up." He hurried towards the others, leaving Hermione no choice but to follow.

Harry and Cesare were complaining loudly about Snape. "Stupid, greasy git next."

"Y'know he only gave me a 3 outta 10 on my last essay? Do you know how long I worked on that! _Merda!_ How I hate that bloody _professore_!" Cesare had taken to peppering his distinct accent with the bits of English slang he picked up. The result was a slight bizarre, but very unique.

Harry gave him a sympathizing look as they entered the dungeons. They continued to whisper as they got into their seats.

Snape, who had been muttering over a dusty book on his desk, suddenly focused his attention on the three of them. His black brows knit in irritation.

"Silence! Speak again and I will take points from your house."

Harry didn't even bother to acknowledge the group of cackling Slytherins in the next rows over. Although they were being much louder, Snape would never scold them.

"Today we will be starting Bewitching Potions. Who can tell me what they are and what compounds are commonly used to make them?" he asked, knowing full and well that none of the class, save maybe Hermione knew this.

Snape's malicious gaze twitched back and forth between Cesare and Harry, apparently deciding which one of his favorite targets to ridicule today.

"Jalil. Stand up and answer." Snape's hand hovered over his notebook, eagerly waiting to write down a big, fat zero.

Cesare stood up warily, having comprehended little of what Snape asked. Then suddenly his mouth opened and words poured out.

"A bewitching potion. Sometimes considered a dark art, it depends on the degree of bewitchment. It's a common form of magic used to make someone believe in something false. They can be used in many variations from a Love Potion to a Forgetfulness Potion. The most common compounds that are evident in almost all bewitching potions are gonnar scales, newt eyes, mandir roots, powdered gruenskin, and dragon bile. The scales can sometimes be substituted for Mandrake leaves, but it depends on the potion's use." He clapped his hand to his mouth and fell into his seat. What the hell?

Snape along with the rest of the class looked Stunned, and they gaped at the Egyptian. Was this the same student who stammered his way through this class? The only person without a shocked expression was Draco Malfoy. He hadn't even turned to look at Cesare. He was gazing at his desk as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Snape recovered quickly. "Well, well, well," he muttered, reluctantly writing a ten instead of a zero. He swept back up the front of the class and lectured, well..... actually more like yelled, for the rest of the class. Cesare stared determinately ahead, not taking any notes and ignoring the curious looks he was getting from his classmates.

The lesson had almost returned to normal, when a few minutes before the bell, the dungeon doors slammed open with a large boom. For the second time, everyone's head swiveled in the same direction.

Professor Almari stood in the doorway with an amused look on her face. Her jet black hair curled down her back as a curious smirk curled her lips. Snape kept his cool at first, only a look of mild annoyance was visible on his face.

She looked incredibly out of place. Her vibrant, shimmering silk clothes and bright gold jewelry stood out in the dark, dismal dungeon, like a Hagrid would stand out amongst a crowd of house-elves. The jinn looked around. "I thought your class would be out by now," she said with an indifferent shrug. "Never mind me; I'll just take what I need." She sauntered down to the front of the classroom, her sandals clicking on the cold, stone floor. Almari headed towards Snape's private storeroom and threw open the door like she owned it.

All the students flinched in anticipation of Snape's reaction. They all knew from experience how precious his storeroom was to him. Snape's face contorted with rage as he watched another person casually walk into his personal haven. He jumped up from his desk and then actually _leaped in front of the entrance to his private stores. In a furious whisper, (that the class could all too audibly hear), he demanded, "What are you doing?!"_

"I need some dragon scales for my third-year class," she said calmly. Her cool tone contrasted with the fact that Snape was clearly spitting mad.

At that moment, he appeared to notice that all twenty students were watching the unusual spectacle between their two professors with avid fascination. If there was one thing Snape would not allow, it was being humiliated in front of others, especially his students. The bell signaling the end of class could not come soon enough.

"GET OUT!" he roared at them, completely losing his head.

Twenty people could not have excited a classroom more quickly had their lives been in mortal peril. All except Harry. He dropped his bag near the door and fell to the floor to pick his things up. He was very much interested in the conversation between the two former Death Eaters.

"Mehrunnisa! What are you doing in here?!" Snape demanded again. Harry could only hear their voices behind his back, not see their faces, but he could practically picture Snape's face twisted in anger and Almari's perfectly collected eternal smile.

She spoke like someone would to a small child throwing a tantrum. "I. Need. Some. Dragon.--,"

Snape cut her off. "I KNOW that! But you can't just come barging into my class and go through my personal storage......."

"Oh, come off it, Severus. What could YOU possible have in there that I wouldn't already know about?"

Harry had never heard Snape speak this rudely to another teacher. His voice was full of more emotional rage than he though possible. 

"Why do you need MY supplies? Why don't you just go and conjure up whatever you need, jinn!"

At that moment, the furious Potions master spotted Harry, who was kneeling on the floor with his books. 

"POTTER! What the hell are you still doing in here! I told you to GET OUT!" Snape began to swoop down on him, his black robes billowing out behind him as he stormed in Harry's direction.

Professor Almari quickly intervened, which Harry would forever be grateful for. 

"Harry, what I think Professor Snape would like to say is perhaps you could leave us alone so we could have a private chat. Hopefully, like two _adults_," she added, with a sweet glance towards Snape, who looked like he wanted to murder someone. Preferably either Almari or Harry.

He jumped to his feet and threw Professor Almari a look of undying gratitude, before quickly exiting the room. As he hurried down the corridor, he was fleetingly concerned for her safety. Snape was ready to kill someone.

~*~*~

Meanwhile, Cesare had grabbed Hermione's arm and gently pulled her outside of the classroom after Snape ordered them to leave. "Let's get outta here," he muttered under his breath.

Hermione glanced back briefly at Harry, but Cesare was walking fast and she had to hurry to keep up with him. His face was downcast and he looked troubled.

She smiled at him. "Guess SOMEBODY'S been studying for Potions. I know even your tutor wasn't sure about the answer to that one," Hermione teased. "You've been the 'super student' lately."

Cesare didn't look at her. "Yeah, I guess," he mumbled. 

Hermione held out her hand and stopped him. Her eyes grew concerned as she looked at him. "Are you alright?"

Cesare glanced up from the floor and gazed at her, lost for words. She always seemed to be able to read his mind. It was unnerving. For a minute he considered confessing the host of mysteries that had been plaguing his mind. How he suddenly knew all the answers and incantation in his classes, yet not having any clue where he learned them. Cesare had always been a good student, but this was simply bizarre. And wasn't all that had been worrying him. The disturbing nightmares with eerie voice that haunted his dreams every night. The odd blankness that overcame him whenever he tried to remember his trip home. 

He opened his mouth, ready to speak, but Hermione's warm, trusting face stopped him cold. He didn't want to bother her with this. She'd probably think he was crazy and be suspicious about how he had suddenly got so much stronger at magic. And the truth was that not even Cesare knew the answer to that question.

He forced a laugh. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just eager to get to lunch, that's all." 

"Okay," Hermione said, but not all of the worry left her visage. The dark, pleading look in Cesare's eyes continued to haunt her, despite his words.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After dinner, they had a short, but frantic Quidditch practice. Harry made them practice drills, with increasing degrees of obsessive ness. They had the final match against Slytherin in a little over a month that decide who would win the House Cup.

Harry held Ron after practice to discuss defense tactics. Cesare left, not wanting to bring down Harry's wrath and scrutiny upon himself.

He headed back to the common room, his mind set on a quick shower and change. As he climbed up the staircase and approached the Fat Lady, a hand suddenly pulled him into a nearby doorway.

"Hey! What the-?" he was silenced when he recognized Hermione. Che smiled and shook his head slowly.

"I don't know what I've done to you. Sneaking around, pulling boys into doorways. I think I've been a bad influence. _Assif, my profuse apologies," he said in a shame-filled voice._

Hermione smiled smugly. "Well, my bad influencer looks pretty handsome in his Quidditch robes. Maybe I could think of a way he could make up for all the damage he's done to my behavioral skills," she said playfully, pulling him closer.

He wrapped his arms around her. "I would be happy to oblige," he whispered, pushing her back against the door. Her lips met his, warm and welcoming.

Hermione broke away for a minute. "My, my. I should pull you into doorways more often." She laughed.

-_~ Downstairs ~_-

"So you wouldn't mind doing it?" Harry asked anxiously. He had just told Ron about Almari's offer to teach him Legilimency and how he needed someone else to help him.

"Sure," Ron agreed. A mischievous glint was shining in his eyes. "Just as long as I can make you read other people's minds for me. Y'know like if we're at the Three Broomsticks and Madam Rosmerta happens to........."

Harry laughed. "I think that would be abusing my power. Besides, I doubt I'll be able to do anything like that. The only thing I'll probably accomplish is guessing which color you're thinking of," he said with a shrug, as they climbed the winding stairs.

Ron rolled his eyes and they starting arguing friendly about Harry' new autographed broomstick when they reached the Fat Lady's portrait. Harry heard a familiar laugh and stopped, holding his hand up to silence Ron.

He walked towards the direction of the laugh and called out, "Hermione?" He stepped past an old classroom. He came to a dead stop when he recognized the couple kissing in the shadowy doorway.

When she noticed Harry, Hermione's eyes widened in shock and she pushed Cesare away. He turned his head to see what Hermione was goggling at and didn't seem surprised to see Harry and Ron there.

"Uh ....... er. ......... this isn't ........ it's not ........." Hermione started to stammer.

"Hello, Harry," Cesare said, quite cheerfully.

Harry started to say something, but was interrupted when Ron joined him.

"Hey, Harry. Is that Hermione and ........." Ron suddenly came into view. His eyes darted back and forth from Cesare's cocky grin to Hermione's nervous expression. His mouth gaped open and closed, like a fish. All the color drained from his face, to be replaced with an angry flush.

Harry looked at his best friend in alarm. A wild look had filled his eyes, only to be replaced with a sudden sad, closed-off expression.

Hermione was paying no attention to Harry. Her fearful gaze was reserved for Ron only, and a flicker of pain swept across her face.

Ron blinked frantically and then muttered under his breath, "I ..... I have to go." He hurried off through the portrait hole.

Something close to regret and horror flooded Hermione's eyes. "Ron! Wait!" She ran after him, leaving Cesare and Harry alone.

Cesare started to follow Hermione, but Harry blocked him. "Let her go," he said quietly.

The Egyptian nodded and stared at Harry expectantly. Harry was hesitant for a moment, and felt very awkward. Then he asked the obvious question.

"Are you and Hermione ..........? Y'know ..........?"

"Yes," Che said simply.

"Since when?" Harry asked confused at this easy confession. The pair just did not make sense. He never would have imagined Hermione would like Cesare that way. He had always just though that........well........she and Ron........

"Since Christmas."

"So-- not long?"

"No."

"Oh." Harry wasn't sure what else to say, but he felt strangely protective of Hermione.

"Do you like her?" he asked bluntly.

Cesare's dark face showed no reaction to the question and Harry felt a strange urge to shake the other student out of his cool, collected state. 

"Yes, very much so," he answered honestly.

"Good. Because I'll kill you if you hurt her," Harry said, an odd calm descending upon him as he said that. 

"I'll take that into consideration," Che said lightly.

"Right." Harry rocked on his heels and nodded uncomfortably. 

"Can we go back into the common room now?" Cesare suggested, sweeping his arm to gesture to the common room entrance.

"Yeah," Harry said, glad to leave this conversation behind.

They arrived in time to see an angry Hermione storming up the winding staircase to the girls' dormitory. Ron was sulking in front of the fire. His eyes glinted angrily when he saw Cesare.

Che had his suspicions about why Ron was upset, but didn't really care to think about it. Maybe he was just as protective of Hermione as Harry was. Deciding that he didn't really like explaining himself to a pissed off Weasley; he headed towards his dorm room, leaving Harry behind with Ron.

Harry cautiously approached Ron and sat down in the armchair opposite him. Ron had pulled a book in front of his face.

"Ron?" Harry tentatively asked.

Ron continued to practically burning holes through the book. This was a ruse to make it appear like he was intently studying. "I can't really talk right now. Must......must study for......for......Divinations."

Harry sighed. "Okay, Ron, two things very wrong with that, mate," he said gently. "One: we don't take Divinations anywhere. Two: the book is upside-down......"

His red-haired friend scowled and angrily turned the book around. "Bloody hell. You're right," he muttered. Ron's eyes were dark with anger, and.......and something else. Harry couldn't put his finger on it.

"Guess I really shouldn't be surprised," Ron continued bitterly. His fingernails dug into the plush crimson armrests, his gaze boring into the carpet. The light from the fire danced across his face in orange and red jittery waves.

Ron screwed up his face and said in an obnoxious voice, eerily reminiscent of Cho Chang's giggly friends, "He's so RICH, and so smart and so talented at magic!" His voice went back to normal, yet embittered. "Hermione goes for the big guys. First Krum, now al-Jalil. The bloke lives in a bloody CASTLE, for Merlin's sake!" He sighed and dropped his head into his hands.

Harry didn't know what to say. There had always been a part of him that suspected Ron liked Hermione as more than a friend. Especially after what happened with Krum in their fifth year. He had been waiting for something to happen; either for Ron to tell him or ask Hermione out. But nothing had ever happened since then and he started to forget about it.

Ron finally lifted his head and his eyes met Harry's. His face was filled with pain and Harry felt sickened for his best friend.

Ron furiously shook his head. "I'm just rubbish compared to that."

"No, you're not," Harry said sharply. "Listen to yourself, Ron!" he whispered fiercely. "Look at the Malfoy's. They're the nastiest family around! And Cesare's family? From what I hear of his uncle, he makes Snape seem like a nice, gentle, fluffy owl!"

Ron couldn't help snickering at the comparison, but it was obvious he was still hurting badly. He rubbed his forehead and stood up. It could have been a trick of the light, but Harry could have sworn that for a second he saw a wet trickle gleaming from one of Ron's eyes.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he mutter, but didn't sound very convinced." He walked to a nearby table and plunked himself in a seat, slamming his bag on the surface. "I think I'm just gonna finish up some work for Charms."

Harry nodded, realizing that Ron probably wasn't ready to be in the same room as Cesare right now. That would probably be very hazardous to the health of both of them.

"Alright." He gathered up his things and started for the staircase.

"Oh, wait. Harry, do me a favor. Let's never mention this conversation again. Please." Ron said jokingly, but Harry saw the pleading look in his eyes.

He cracked half a smile. "Sure, Ron." He bid him good night and went upstairs.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

To call the next few days a bit difficult and tense would have been a massive understatement. Ron flatly refused to speak to Hermione, and would flex his fingers whenever he saw Cesare, as if itching to throttle the exchange student. Che learned to simply ignore him, but it was obvious that Ron's actions hurt Hermione.

Harry was unwillingly drawn into the battle. He wouldn't say he picked sides, but with Hermione and Ron not speaking, it was impossible to be with both of them. And since Hermione and Cesare were often together, Harry naturally stuck by Ron. He didn't notice at first, but this put a chill on his budding friendship with Che. It was something he would sincerely regret in several months.

There were other drawbacks. By the next morning, the entire school seemed to have the general idea of what was going on. Hermione was teased constantly. (Very few dared say anything to Cesare; the time he had put Malfoy in the hospital wing was still fresh in many minds.) But Snape demanded on separating them at every moment, saying sarcastically that the environment had to be kept 'academic.'

Hermione did have to admit that there were some benefits of their secret being out. She could hold his hand or give him a quick kiss without the terrible worry that they would be discovered.

Cesare was so wrapped up with Hermione, Quidditch, and lessons that he almost forgot the strange things that had been happening to him lately. Or he would have almost forgotten if it weren't for a very strange experience Monday night.

It was indecently late and the common room was deserted. The only sounds were the snapping, sizzling firewood burning away and the scratching of a quill. He was desperately trying to finish up an essay on the early calligraphy of Bavarian pictographs for Ancient Runes.

He squinted to see by the shadows of flickering firelight and is elbow bumped up against his inkwell, knocking it over. "Damn," he mumbled. There hadn't been much ink left, but it still made a mess. Che sighed. All he wanted to do was finish this ridiculous essay and try and catch some sleep. He had been plagued by nightmares and insomnia recently, and it was starting to have a great impact. He'd been dozing in classes and there were always dark circles under his eyes.

Cesare rummaged through his bag for another inkwell, but couldn't find one. He eyed one on another table across the common room. It was late and everyone was gone save him. He figured whoever owned it wouldn't mind if he borrowed a bit. He was too lazy to go across the room and get it, so he decided to Summon it, and then realized he had left his wand upstairs.

He rolled his eyes. 'Just get up and get the stupid thing,' he scolded himself.

"Accio," he muttered anyway as he slowly stood up. He started to walk towards the other table, but was interrupted when the inkwell suddenly zoomed across the room, directly at his head. He quickly ducked his head to narrowly avoid being knocked out by the flying projectile. It smashed into the wall, splattering a nearby painting with dark ink. The medieval women in the painting screamed as they were stained from head to foot.

"Ungainly rapscallion! Look what thou've done?" they cried, throwing up their arms and wailing.

Che was bewildered. "But, how ...... how? I couldn't have. I don't even have my wand!" he exclaimed. His gaze roamed over the room. Was someone trying to play a trick on him? How had the inkwell flown like that?

The women in the ruined portrait continued to berate Cesare and shoot him dirty looks.

He walked over and stared at the glittering glass shards. All that remained of the bottle.

"Not possible," he muttered. "Unless ........." He glanced at a third-year Transfigurations book, lying abandoned on one of the armchairs. 

"Accio."

The book flew towards him and he caught it neatly in his hand. He raised it slowly in to his widened, wondrous eyes. His hand was shaking.

"_Il mio dio_," Che gasped. "This-- this cannot be happening," he continued to stammer to himself.

He tried again with other books, bags, and cushions. Anything he could Summon. Anything t prove that this was just a horrible dream. But after about ten minutes, he gave up. He could Summon without his wand. Cesare fell back against the wall and slowly sunk to the floor. He felt sick to his stomach with fear, amazement, and adrenaline. He was shaking badly and still cradled one of the cushions he had Summoned.

Cesare pressed his chin against his knees. What the hell was happening to him?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning in Defense against the Dark Arts, Cesare could barely keep his eyes open. He was slumped over his desk and completely unresponsive to Hermione's attempts at conversation. Professor Almari started speaking, and Hermione prodded him hard in the ribs.

Cesare glanced wearily at Hermione. He had resolved to tell her everything after class. He needed someone to confide in and she would be the best person. She might even be able to explain if this was normal.

She pushed a strand of black hair out of his eyes. "Are you awake now? Did you sleep at all last night?" she whispered.

"Not really," he confessed. He had finally left the common room around three AM, but the nightmares were even worse that night. The same dreams filled with green light and screaming. Although this one had been a bit different. The cold voice had started telling him things. Spells, curses, potion recipes; he could barely remember them now. He woke up shortly after that and had been unable and unwilling to fall back asleep.

"I have to talk to you after class," he whispered back. She nodded and then focused her attention back to the lesson.

Che tried to focus on her lecture, but as his eyelids slowly dropped, the jinn became a blurry figure, and his mind started to wander again. Almari seemed to have his negative opinion of Northern European weather and kept her room very warm during the winter. The heat combined with the aroma of sandalwood incense created a drowsy effect, and he was dangerously close to falling back asleep, when something the professor mentioned snapped him back awake and to attention as if he had been struck by lightning.

"Now wand-less magic is a skill highly revered by Dark wizards. Very, very few are able to pull it off. There were only two believed capable of it this century. Grindelwald and the Dark Lord." Almari looked grave, as usual, when she spoke of Voldemort. She made eye contact with the class to emphasize her point.

"Think about it. How did you feel when you went to get your first wand? Wands are held sacred in the wizarding community. They allow us to do most magic and that is the very thing that separates us from Muggles. Yet we are limited without our wands. To go beyond a wand is to break a barrier that holds wizards back from abusing their power."

"Wand-less magic is usually just simple spells and charms. Stunning, Levitating, Summoning. Things of that nature."

When he heard the word "Summoning," Cesare dropped his quill.

Almari started to go on about how to recognize wand-less magic, but Che rudely interrupted and shouted out his question.

"Wait, Professor. Is ALL wand-less magic considered a dark art?" he asked.

A gleam of amusement shone in the jinn's dark eyes. "Ah, Mr. al-Jalil, are we awake now? I wasn't aware you were paying the slightest bit of attention." She crossed her slender arms and gave him a stern look.

But Cesare would not be deterred. Ignoring her scolding glare, he pressed on. "Sorry," he said hastily. "But is it? Is all wand-less magic a Dark Art?"

The jinn nodded. "Oh, yes. Only a very advanced Dark wizard would be capable of such a feat. Getting caught would be enough of a charge to be sent away to Azkaban for a lifetime. A wizard needs a great amount of power to break free of a wand, and such power is not usually obtained through.......well....._ethical_ means."

He persisted, but Almari didn't seem to detect the desperation in his voice. "So, there is no other way a spell could be accomplished without a wand?" His eyes held a trace a pleading.

"No, not unless it was a potion or used with another magical device. The closest to what you're asking about would be Divination or Legilimency, but those are entirely different branches of magic."

"Oh," Che said in strange tone. He studied the surface of his desk, while an ill feeling grew in his stomach. His mind continued to spin with possibilities. 

The bell rang and they gathered up their stuff.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Hermione asked casually as they left the class.

"Oh. I, ah, forget. It wasn't important though," he assured her. His face was an inscrutable mask and his eyes held no hint of the dark thought that haunted his mind.

"Well, if you remember, you can tell me later," she said with a smile and took his hand in hers.

"Yeah," Che forced a small grin, and they walked to their next class.

But he couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell anyone. He would have to figure this out on his own. He was just lucky Almari had discussed that in his class today, otherwise he would have opened his big mouth and Hermione would probably think he was some kind of evil sorcerer.

But the jinni HAD to be wrong. There HAD to be another way to perform simple spells without a wand. Che wasn't a Dark wizard and sure as hell wouldn't be powerful enough to not use a wand.

But thoughts of the nightmares and the recent easiness of school ebbed at his mind. He sat down at the desk he shared with Harry in Charms.

He looked at his friend out of the corner of his eyes. He couldn't tell Harry either. Nobody could know. He would have to figure out what was happening on his own.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

-_~ Author's Note ~_-

Please review! Please.........please!

Also, I will be changing my penname to Amarain. Please look for my story under that name.

Thanks to THW (who is probably cursing my existence after what I did to her Ronniekins, lol) and vanillacreme


	17. Animagi

Chapter Sixteen

Animagi

~*~*~*~

_"But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em anymore....."_

_~ Hagrid, Harry Potter and Prisoner of Azkaban_

~*~*~*~

"Harry? Hey, mate, you ready?"

Ron's voice interrupted Harry's thoughts. He had been staring at his dinner, imagining that it was a Quidditch pitch and detailing intricate plays for his treacle tart. It was fair to say the upcoming match with Slytherin was weighing heavily on his shoulders. He tore his gaze away from the plate and stared at Ron, suddenly remembering another significant event he had been eagerly anticipating. His Animagi lesson.

He stood up quickly and glanced at his watch. "Right. We should go. McGonagall will be expecting us." They made their way out of the crowded, bustling Great Hall. Dark indigo clouds, swollen with precipitation, swirled across the enchanted ceiling, promising more snow. The winter had been brutal and Hogwart's was already burdened with half a meter of snow covering the cold, frozen earth.

Harry and Ron spoke nervously as they reached the Transfigurations classroom. McGonagall had not given them very specific information on these lessons. Harry wondered how they would start. He tried to ignore the anxiety gnawing at his mind. Becoming an Animagus was a desperate wish he held near to his heart. 

"Let's do this, he murmured, mostly to himself. He pushed open the door and walked in.

The other three students, Neville, Hermione, and Cesare, were already waiting. They were sitting in a semi-circle of five chairs which faced McGonagall's desk. She eyed them sternly as Ron and Harry warily approached.

"Gentlemen. I was beginning to fear you had forgotten. Nevertheless, now that you have decided to grace us with your presence, perhaps we can begin?"

They mumbled apologies and shamefully took the last two seats. McGonagall took a large flask from inside her desk.

"Now you all know what we are going to try and accomplish. I must stress to you the difficulty in successfully becoming Animagi. Most wizards never attempt to process, and many who do still fail."

Harry noticed Ron yawn and resisted to urge to snicker. He knew the professor was only trying to prepare for the possibility of failure, but her speech fell on ears deaf with excitement.

She walked over to an old, peeling storage cabinet and took out five small vials. The five students watched as she poured a small amount of the thick potion from the flask into each dusty, glass vial.

McGonagall carefully picked up one of the vials and held it up. "This is but the first step in a long and arduous journey. This mixture will allow you a brief glimpse of your spirit animal. This is animal which best represents you and your characteristics. Most wizards choose to become their spirit animal because it is believed to be the easiest transformation."

"The time it takes to complete the process varies. Most believe the average time to be about a year, under the instruction of a trained Animagus. But--," The professor was interrupted when Cesare's hand darted up and he asked a question.

"Professor, is it possible to do it in less time? Significantly less time?" he asked nonchalantly.

She narrowed her eyes. "How significant, Mr. Jalil?"

He shrugged, looking very casual. "Ah, I don't know. Maybe a.........day?" Che said innocently.

Now she appeared even more cross. "Unless you're a Metamorphmagus or it runs in your family," she said very sarcastically. "This is a very serious topic, Mr. Jalil, and if you feel the need to make jokes, perhaps you should not be here."

His mouth fell open in protest, but wisely he kept silently. Harry noticed that Ron grinned madly when McGonagall scolded Cesare, and he rolled his eyes.

Looking a bit ruffled, the professor continued. "Now as I was saying, this potion will aid you in your vision. I hope you are all well-rested. It is no small ordeal on the mind." She placed one of the small vials in front of each student. "Whether or not you choose to drink is your concern."

Harry eyed the glass tumbler in front of him and carefully picked it up. The glass was icy-cold. The potion was a clumpy mixture of mottled green and black sludge. Just looking at it made his stomach turn. An anxious thought shot through his mind. What if the potion didn't work? What if he just sat there after drinking it and nothing happened? Would that mean he couldn't be an Animagus?

He rolled the vial between his thumb and index finger. Only one way to find out. He raised it to his lips and drank it quickly. It felt like cold mud sliding down his throat and he had to resist the urge to throw up. He gripped the edge of his chair, and then relaxed. Nothing was happening. Nothing at all. It hadn't worked. He wasn't going to be able to become an Animagus...........

And then suddenly, he was far, far away from his familiar world of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

~*~*~*~

Harry opened his brilliant green eyes to the dazzlingly bright sunlight, and he threw his hand up to protect his sight from the blinding glare. Harsh, unforgiving wind whipped through his hair. He took an awkward step forward, and stumbled as his foot struck soft, yielding sand. Losing his balance, he collapsed. 

Where was he? What happened to him? Questions raced furiously through his mind. He squinted and carefully surveyed his strange surrounding. He was in.........a desert? How could that be? Yet, he was almost certainly in a desert. He was struck by the magnificence of the view. An ocean of golden brown waves rippled out to meet every distant edge of the ridiculously bright blue sky. A massive dune, twisted by wind, snaked across the sand.

The vision! He realized this must be it! But what could a dusty, hot desert possibly have to do with becoming an Animagus?

The cruel sun was beating down upon his body without mercy. He pulled off his black cloak and stared at the monotonous landscape. He was feeling anxious again. Was there something else he was supposed to do? The idea of waiting in this sweltering heat wasn't very pleasant.

As if in response to this thought, a strong breeze blew a large amount of sand into his face. Harry choked and sputtered, his hands instantly going to block his eyes. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

He froze as he suddenly heard a low hissing. His blood turned to ice and felt his body flood with adrenaline. He knew all too well what sort of creature made that sound.

A terrible sense of foreboding filled his mind. Harry forced himself to open his sand-encrusted eyes. Although his vision was bleary, there was no mistaking the incredibly long creature in front of him. It must have slithered over the dune. It raised itself up, flaring its formidable hood, and hissed again.

A snake. A cobra, to be exact. It was a dusty brown color, with a wide black band around its neck. It was at least seven meters long. Harry's attention quickly focused on the large, sharp fangs that were bared directly at him. Venom dripped off their slippery surface.

Well, just when he thought things couldn't get worse. Now he got to wait around for his spirit animal with a lethal, salivating snake. He didn't move, silently praying it would go upon its way.

The cobra appeared to have other plans. It crept a bit closer to him, and Harry immediately flinched. But a small mark above the cobra's eyes drew his attention, and he didn't flee. It looked like a small black line..........crooked, almost in the shape of a.......

Lightning bolt. The cobra had a lightning bolt shaped mark on its head.

The connection was instantaneous. He felt liked he'd been kicked in the stomach. He understood now. This was his spirit animal. The animal that was the best representation of his "personality and characteristics." Harry's spirit animal was a snake.

_No, no, no, no, no...........!_ His thought rebelled against the logical conclusion. It was a desert. Of course there would snakes around. A cobra couldn't be his spirit animal. It was impossible. That was closer to something _VOLDEMORT would transform into. Not Harry. He would rather not become an Animagus, than train to turn into a snake, he told himself defiantly. The thought made him queasy. _

The brown serpent had stopped hissing and was now carefully regarding him with a detached air. Its tongue tasted the air as his scent drifted along on the _rayeeb_ desert wind.

_~ It'sssssssss what you fear.~_ A silkily voice suddenly rang out, shattering the silence.

Harry frantically glanced around, searching for who had spoken. His searching gaze settled on the snake. 'Duh, Potter,' he thought, feeling quite idiotic. "You ARE a Parseltongue.'

He could have sworn the cobra gave him a condescending glare. But it might have just been a trick of the harsh, unforgiving sunlight.

_~ Beware the one who sssssssharessssss my land. ~_

Harry stared at the serpent in befuddlement. Huh? What was that supposed to mean? He wondered. 

Any suspicions he had were lost when his vision slowly became hazy. He rubbed his eyes, but it didn't help. He saw the blurry outline of the snake and reached out a hand to steady himself, but could not grasp at the sand. Was this what heatstroke was like?

_~Thissssssss issssssss where I leave you, Harry Potter. Heed my warningssssss. ~_

Harry reached towards the now-indistinct form of the serpent. He felt himself being torn from this magical place. "Wait..........."

Golden waves of sand intermingled with bright blue sky swirled together and Harry closed his eyes as he was tugged back to Hogwarts.

He suddenly found himself sitting against the hard, cold chair in the Transfigurations class. His eyes darted widely around the room. The other four students had similar bewildered looks on their faces. Neville was gripping the edge of his seat so hard his knuckles had turned white. He shot Harry a fearful, confused gaze.

McGonagall was studying their reactions carefully. "I judge from your faces that you all saw something?"

She was met with slow, affirmative nods and took this as a sign to continue. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked pointedly at Ron, who was twitching with an awed gaze on his freckled face.

"Mr. Weasley. Did you see anything?"

Ron stopped tapping his fingers against the chair arms and looked up. He couldn't hide the huge smile that easily broke across his face. His blue eyes were alight with excitement.

"Well, when I opened my eyes I thought I was in the Forbidden Forest at first. Really bizarre stuff. But then I saw this sort of bird in one of the trees. It was reddish-colored and I dunno, kinda skivved me out. The thing was huge! For a second, I thought maybe Hagrid was doing some kinda mad breeding between a hypogryph and a phoenix."

McGonagall probably had to fight not to roll her eyes at Ron's rather.....creative description. She raised a thin black brow. "Can you narrow your observations further? Do you have an idea of what type of bird it was?"

His excitement seemed to deflate a bit. "Well, er, not really. It was some sort of red hawk I think."

She nodded curtly. "Well, this will require more research on your part, Mr.Weasley." She turned to Neville. "What about you, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville was breathing heavily and for a moment Harry wondered if he was upset. But when he looked up, there was an ardent fervor about his visage. He gazed at the other students in wonder. "I saw a lion," he said in an awestruck tone. He seemed like he had trouble believing his own experience.

Professor McGonagall's surprised tone echoed the feelings of the other students. "A lion? And actual LION?"

He nodded slowly, but looked unsure. "Is that......is that bad?" he asked timidly.

She seemed to realize she had made a mistake and quickly back-pedaled. "No, no, of course not. That's very good. Er......." She glanced quickly around the room and her eyes settled on Harry. "Mr. Potter?"

Harry felt his stomach drop and fought not to appear nervous. Neville's spirit animal was a lion and now Harry had to announce that he was a cobra? What a great comparison, he thought sarcastically. The idea of becoming a snake made him nauseous. He couldn't meet McGonagall's inquisitive stare and tried to stall.

"Well, I saw a desert and wasn't sure the vision was going correctly at first. Er, it was really hot and sandy. I was starting to wonder if I was going to be stuck there and......."

"Did you see your spirit animal?" McGonagall interrupted, apparently not very engaged by Harry's story so far.

"Er, yeah."

"And.....?"

He took a quick breath. "I saw.........I saw a snake. A cobra, I think."

Ron snorted, thinking Harry was joking. Hermione's eyes grew wide as saucers, Neville looked confused, and Cesare seemed interested. As for McGonagall, she couldn't hide her surprise. "A snake? Are you sure? What did it look like"

Harry sighed and nodded. "Yeah, there was pretty much no mistaking it for anything else. It was brown and had a dark band around it's neck. Also......." He swallowed, feeling even more ill, "also it had a small lighting-shaped mark on its head."

McGonagall inhaled sharply and Ron's jaw dropped.

"Are you serious?!" he demanded. Harry nodded again. The professor opened her mouth to speak again, but she was interrupted by a cheerful-looking Cesare, the only one who didn't seem to be taking this news badly.

"It's an asp," He offered informatively. "The dark band around its neck? Egyptian cobra. Nasty creatures and very poisonous." Che smiled at Harry. "You have a legitimate venomous killer as your spirit animal. Nicely done, Potter," he joked. Hermione shook her head and hit his arm in attempt to make him be silent. 

McGonagall also looked sternly at Cesare. "Thank you for you analysis, Mr. Jalil," she commented sarcastically. "We'll, er.......have to discuss this further, Harry," she said, at a loss for the correct thing to say. Instead, she quickly focused on Hermione. "Miss Granger?"

Hermione sat up straight in her seat and looked very serious. In a very formal tone, she solemnly announced, "My spirit animal is a brown fox."

"Very good," McGonagall sighed, clearly relived not to have another disturbing case like Harry's. In a tired voice, she asked the last person about their experience. 

"Mr. Jalil, what animal did you see?"

Cesare was the only one who seemed calm and perfectly content. "Me? Oh, I didn't see anything," he said casually, indifferent to effect of his words.

"What? You didn't see _anything_?" McGonagall demanded in disbelief. Cesare was the top sixth year student when it came to Transfigurations. Everyone assumed that he would easily accomplish the challenge of becoming an Animagus. 

"Nope, not a single thing," he said, quite cheerfully. "Guess I'm not Animagi material," He shrugged, without a hint of disappointment.

The professor narrowed her eyes and continued to throw odd looks his way. She seemed very eager for them to leave. "Well, I know you must all be tired. This is a very exhausting process. We will discuss your experiences in more detail next week."

Harry slowly nodded, not realizing how tired his body was. It felt like he'd just had the most exhausting Quidditch practice of his life. Every muscle felt stretched and pulled. His very mind was aching. He thought longingly of his warm, comfortable bed nestled high in the Gryffindor tower.

McGonagall bid them good night and the weary students left for their common room. Silence haunted to group as their footsteps echoed in the dark, empty hall. Harry threw a quick glance in Cesare's direction. He knew the rest of them were eager to discuss their Animagi visions, but didn't want to in front of Che. Harry was shocked the Egyptian hadn't seen anything. He was far more talented in Divination than the rest of them, (with the possible exception of Hermione.) It didn't make sense. And Che didn't even appear to be that upset about it! He seemed even more content than the rest of them. Odd.

~*~*~*~*~

Cesare stayed in the common room after the others went to bed. Hermione looked imploringly after him.

"Are you okay? That must have been a bit of a shock. I mean, with the Animagi........" She phrased her words carefully, watching for any reaction to her words.

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Hermione, really it's nothing."

She gave him a funny look. Che really seemed fine. He was even smiling! That didn't make any sense. Hermione knew she would have been more upset if she was in his situation.

"Okay, if you say so. Besides, it doesn't mean anything. You're still the best Transfigurer in our class."

Che laughed. "That's not true. Stop worrying. This really does not bother me." He ruffled her hair affectionately and lightly grasped one of her hands. He studied her face intently. "Go to sleep," he concluded, "You look tired."

"Mmm, that sounds good," she yawned. "How about you? Staying down here for a bit?"

He nodded with a small smirk. "You know me. The night owl. I have to do some homework."

"Liar. You never do homework."

"Then I'll find something else to do," he said quickly. "Go, you are exhausted." He kissed her lightly. "Good night, _habibi."_

After she left, Cesare relaxed in one of the chairs next to the fire. He felt a little more relieved now that this Animagi business was taken care of. He'd rather have McGonagall believe he wasn't capable of the transformation, instead of her discovering that he was already an unregistered Animagus. He didn't think she would be very happy to know about that small detail.

He stretched his arms over his head. He felt a little sleepy himself, but didn't relish the thought of having more murderous nightmares. Che felt a chill up his spine. The nightmares were only one reminder that everything was not right in his life. Nightmares, wandless magic, suddenly being much more skilled at magic....... The abnormalities continued to plague his mind and his restless nights. He sighed deeply. Cesare was no closer to figuring out what was going on than he had been a few weeks ago.

A hush of whispers interrupted his brooding. His eyes drifted over to the far wall across from the stairs. He cursed under his breath as he recognized the portrait from the other night. 

"Foul sorcerer! Look not upon thee! Thou shan't filthy us with thy dark glare!"

He threw his hands up in exasperation and the medieval women cowered in their framed picture.

"What are you going on about? I can't understand a word of what you're saying!" he complained. Damn English. Such a complicated, odd language. He got up and strode over the painting. This was the first time he had really examined it up close. The two women were seated in stone room with narrow Gothic windows. Their clothing appeared to be from the early Middle Ages.

One woman dramatically covered her eyes at his approach. "Stop! Do not come any closer, thou Dark wizard of pagan deserts!"

He scowled, and in an offended tone, asked, "What are you calling pagan deserts?! You people were living in caves when we were building architectural wonders....." He shut his mouth quickly. _Let's not get into that, Che, he told himself. He rubbed his brow in annoyance. "Listen, I don't really want people to hear you two calling me a Dark wizard, so how about......" He was cut off again when the women started cackling._

"It sounds a wondrous plan to thine ears! Thy black secret shall be exposed. Thou shall be cast out from Hogwart's!" one declared. The women were now giddy with malicious excitement.

"Dumbledore shall hear of thy Dark magic!"

"I WASN"T practicing Dark magic!" he protested. But it was futile. He suddenly they were serious about snitching on him when one darted to the edge of the portrait to escape.

He threw his wand arm out instinctively. "Petrificus dipengere!" Che jumped back as the painted figures froze in place. His mouth dropped open in surprise. 

"_Bism__ il lah!" he exclaimed. What did he just do? He'd never heard of that spell before he'd said it. _

Che bit his lip uncertainly. He didn't know what to do with the portrait. If he unfroze it, the women would go to Dumbledore and accuse him of practicing wandless magic. Che knew he would probably not only be expelled, but jailed for using Dark magic. He couldn't let that happen.

It suddenly felt as if an icy presence had entered the room. Similar to the way a ghost affected its surroundings, but the cold was more mental and physical. A voice seemed to whisper to him from the dark shadows of the room. ~_Destroy them. It is the only way......~_

He whipped his head around, and pointed his wand in the direction of the voice. "Who said that?!" he demanded, his voice rising with nervous panic.

_~It does not matter. All that matters is that you do not get caught. You will rot away in Azkaban for the rest of your life. Never to be free to see your friends or your native land again........Is that what you want?~_

This time the voice had come from the other side of the room, and Cesare whirled around, frantically searching for the speaker. "I didn't do anything," he insisted. "I didn't do anything. They can't put me in prison!"

_~Don't be stupid. They will not take any chances in times like these. And you did practice Dark Magic........~_

"No, I didn't! I didn't mean too! 

_~But you did. You have been graced with a gift. It is your responsibility to not get caught.~_

"Who are you?" Cesare whispered in a pleading voice.

_~Destroy the portrait.~_

"I can't....." Che could have sworn a cold wind suddenly brushed past him and left the room. It felt like waking up from a dream. He shivered and his anxious gaze swept across the frozen figures of the antique painting. 

He stood up, feeling very unbalanced. He slowly walked towards the portrait. Dread and uncertainty filled his mind with every step. He stopped in front of the painting and swallowed hard.

_'They're not real people," he told himself. 'Just paintings, a figment of someone's imagination.......This won't hurt them.......'_ But why didn't he feel convinced?

He'd go to Azkaban, he reminded himself firmly. One word to Dumbledore and he'd spend the rest of his life in jail for a crime he hadn't really committed. Conflicting voices in his mind only confused him more.

_It's just a painting._

_'I can't do this........I can't destroy them.......'_

_They're not real. They can't feel anything._

_'They spoke to me. They can speak, they can think, they can feel.'_

_It's the only way. They threatened you. You have to respond. You'll go to jail. You'll spend the rest of your life locked in a cage. You'll never see the outside again. You'll never see __Egypt__ again. You'll never see Hermione again.............._

_'I'll never see Hermione again............'_

Cesare raised a shaky hand. His trembling fingers were pressed firmly against his wand. Without even having prior knowledge of the spell, he whispered it. "Incenario cuadroso."

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but certainly not what happened. The portrait burst into crimson and gold flames and emitted low groans that sounded like mournful cries of pain. His eyes widened in shock and he staggered back, dropping his wand in the process. He felt his blood turn to ice and started to shake.

He couldn't look away as the figures writhed and melted. Bubbling oil paint was running down the canvas, like water running down a swift stream. It slowly erased the faces and features of the women who he had been speaking to only moments before.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he repeated in horror, almost saying it to sooth his own soul. He felt dark and ugly. What had he done? Guilt was gnawing away at him, manifesting itself as actual nausea. 

Cesare stood, completely transfixed, as the ruined portrait became a twisted, charred mass. All the paint had mixed together to produce a reddish tone that looked disturbingly like blood.

He suddenly became very nervous. What if someone suddenly came into the common room? He would be under suspicion.

Get rid of the evidence. The practical, indifferent thought surprised him out of his emotional response. Of course. He would have to get rid of the remnants of the portrait. It was the only thing linking him to his crime.

His crime. The word came unbidden, but did it accurately describe what he had done? It was just a portrait, he insisted to himself. A nasty little voice inside his head echoed back. Do portraits scream in pain? It mocked.

He waved his wand over the burnt remains. "Expellio." They disappeared in a flash of smoke.

Cesare sat back down in the same chair, yet felt like a very different person. More weight had shifted onto his already burdened shoulders. He had a very bad feeling of foresight. It seemed like he had just taken the first, tentative step onto a very dark path, from which there would be no turning back and no escape.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

-_~ Author's Note ~_-

Well, my happiness at being voted Harry Potter FanFiction.com's story of the month induced me to post another chapter.

One note, _habibi is an Arabic term of affection. It's difficult to translate. Kind of like "darling" or "my love." It's pretty common._

Also, my new AIM id is Amarain12 to any who wish to contact me online. I like talking to readers.

Please, please review. I really appreciate any feedback and comment. Reviews=next chapter.......


	18. Legilimency for Beginners

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers

Chapter Seventeen:

Legilimency for Beginners

_AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT.........._

_"But I don't!" said Harry in a strangled voice. "I haven't any powers that he hasn't got, I couldn't fight the way he did tonight, I can't possess people or – kill them –"_

_"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," interrupted Dumbledore, "that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you."_

_~ Harry Potter and the Order of the __Phoenix___

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The room was black as the darkest night. The stone floor was icy and sent chills throughout his body. His clothes and hair were plastered to his face by the residue of clammy salt water. He felt no ropes or magic binding him, yet any movement he tried was futile. He was frozen to his spot on the floor. He stretched out his arms, trying to pull away the blindfold of darkness that rendered him sightless. His grasping hands froze as a cold high voice whispered in his ear. 

".............. blinding a foe .......... very handy skill ...... the obscuring charm ........ point your wand directly at your target's eyes and incant 'oscuro chegus.' The pupils should turn white immediately ........"

It was dangerous tone which sent shivers down his spine. What was it saying? He needed to know. Something told him to listen carefully.

" ....... lethifolds ...... the living shrouds ......... deadly, and unfortunately quite rare, Dark creatures ........ They will join us, of course ......... provided we barter their support for inferior victims -- Muggles and such ..........."

Cesare heard no footsteps on the hard floor, but the voice was suddenly right next to him, wheezing rancid air against his cheek. He tried to strike out against whoever it was, but he still couldn't move.

"The time is drawing near ....... In mere weeks, you will mine. Close your mind, do not resist."

"The power tempts you. Imagine the glory of it .......... to control destiny. To control lives and bend them to your utter will. Would you like to do that, Cesare?" The voice laughed in his ear, sounding eerily familiar.

"Your uncle has tried to beat you down; he acted as if you were an insignificant child. But you know you ARE something great. Would you like to prove it? To get the sweet revenge you've been yearning for. There are many ways you could refine your cursing skills on him ........."

Cesare jolted awake, and sat up quickly. He tried to even out his staggered breathing. His wide brown eyes darted over the bed and heavy closed crimson curtains, blocking his vision of the rest of the room. With a sigh, he wiped the cold sweat off his brow. _Just another nightmare, just a stupid dream.__ Relax, he told himself, mentally trying to force out the high, cold laugh that stayed with him after every nightmare. It was a merciless sound that chilled him to the bone._

He leaned back against the headboard and hung his head in his hands. _What is going on? What are these nightmares? What do they mean? Was the person with the cold laugh trying to tell me something, or ......... teach me something? _There often seemed to be instructions hidden within the nightmares.

He was starting to feel doubtful of his resolve to keep what was going on to himself. He desperately wished he knew someone older, more mature, who maybe had enough magical knowledge to help him. Someone .......... someone like ..........

_Someone like a father.__ Or a mother, _he thought bitterly. But he didn't have anyone like that and never would. His only family was a nasty uncle and an unknown dead-or-absent father. He was alone except for Hermione and the very few friends he had at Hogwarts. It was a feeling he was used too, but for some reason it particularly depressed him tonight.

He looked up at the bed curtains and suddenly felt trapped in a small cage of scarlet fabric. The air was stuffy and too warm even for his liking. A claustrophobic sensation started to overcome Che, coupled with his uncertainty over the nightmares.

_I have to get out of here._

He slowly opened the curtains to reveal the dormitory room aglow in moonlight spilling in from the window. He pulled on his robe over his loose pants and shoved his wand in the pocket. With a quick glance at the other beds to make sure no one else was awake, he stood quietly and held his breath. The low snores reassured him, and he silently crept out of the room.

He ducked through the portrait hole, carefully swinging open the Fat Lady, as not to wake her. But it was a routine that had become instinctual. His nighttime strays had become more habitual since school started again. He had yet to get caught.

Cesare made his way cautiously and quickly to a back entrance that led into a ghostly courtyard glowing with silvery light that bordered the Forbidden Forest. When he reached the figures of the looming, dark trees, he stopped.

The air was chilly and a fresh layer of snow blanketed the pristine ground. He continued to be struck by the alien ness of this environment that was so different from warm, azure oceans or sizzling desert sands. Yet this strange place had quickly become home for him. What Hogwart's lacked in temperature warmth was made up by the more intangible friendly warmth of its people.   

He scanned the grounds once more to make sure he was alone. Assured of this, he closed his eyes, although he no longer needed to bring the image of the wolf to his mind. All he had to do was simply decide to turn into his Animagus form.

Skin became dark fur, hands became paws, and his face lengthened into a snout in the blink of an eye.

When he was the wolf, all other concerns vanished. He gladly relinquished control to the animal's mind and instincts. He felt carefree and light and thoughts of nightmares seemed ridiculous.

He started to run, an almost indescribable feeling of complete and utter freedom. The cool wet dew spraying over his paws, his powerful legs attaining speeds he never could as a human, the still quiet way the moon and stars shone over the snow; he relished it all.

The forest was close; dark trees standing like straight soldiers to block the horrors within. Yet thoughts of fear were nonexistent in his mind. The wolf could defend itself.

Cesare started to run faster, dodging trees as he gained speed. A light breeze swept off the icy snow and through his thick fur. He threw back his head, and howled in sheer delight, not knowing or caring that there were a few --very few, but still a few-- back at the castle that heard and remembered his wild call.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione perched on her neatly made bed, carefully inspecting a towering pile of books, deciding which ones she would need for the day. She chewed on the end of a fingernail and she debated between taking her Runes book or leaving the 5000 page volume in her dorm.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the dorm room door flew open with a bang to reveal a chattering Lavender and Parvati. They both had huge smiles on their faces. Parvati was twisting the end of her long braid with nervous excitement. They both looked at Hermione expectantly. 

Hermione reluctantly postponed her book decision, and looked up at the giggling girls. "Okay, I know you want to tell me something. Go on."

Lavender glanced quickly at her best friend and nudged her shoulder. "Dean asked Parvati to go to Hogsmeade with him tomorrow!" she squealed excitedly. She seemed more excited than Parvati, who sat on Hermione's bed and was still smiling.

Hermione smiled warmly at Parvati. "That's great. I didn't know you fancied him."

Parvati nodded. She was unusually quite, but her dark eyes were sparkling with delight. Lavender also flopped onto Hermione's bed, making the book tower shake quite precariously. "Especially tomorrow! It's so romantic!" she swooned. "You're so _lucky_, Parvati! You too, Hermione."

"Tomorrow........" Hermione said slowly. There _was something, wasn't there? Some sort of important thing. What was it? Her mind was blanking._

Lavender was staring at her; disbelief written in her blue eyes. "You _do_ know what tomorrow is, don't you?"

"Oh, course! Tomorrow............tomorrow is........is the day after today," she finished lamely.

Lavender's eyes were as wide as a house-elf's. "Hermione!" she shouted, sounding completely horrified. She hit the other girl's arm. "Tomorrow is _Valentine's Day_!"

"Ah," Hermione commented, feeling stupid. "I knew that," she insisted stubbornly.

"Sure." Lavender waved as dismissive hand. "Anyway. Tell us what you and Che are doing! Are you going to Hogsmeade too?" Lavender and Parvati looked at her with rapt attention.

Hermione felt uncomfortable. She had forgotten all about Valentine's Day and would not be surprised if she discovered Cesare had never even heard of the holiday. She would feel very foolish if she asked him. "Che and I? Er........well, actually, we don't have anything planned."

Now it was Parvati's turn to look horrified. Honestly, these two were obsessed. "You......you don't have _anything planned_?" she asked in a hushed voice, as if this was a dirty secret not to be revealed too loudly. "How is that POSSIBLE? You two have been going out forever!"

_Try a little over two months, but who's counting?_ Hermione thought dryly. But before she could say anything else, Lavender interrupted.

"I can't believe he didn't even ask if you wanted to do something special!"

"Well, actually, I doubt he even—" 

"That is unbelievable. Typical men," Parvati added.

Hermione swiftly gathered up her books. "Yeah, typical," she said vaguely, hoping for an escape. "Anyway, I should be going. Can't be late." She swung her heavy bag onto her shoulder and made for the door before Lavender or Parvati could say another word. As she left, she couldn't help feeling just the slightest twinge of jealousy. It had been very sweet of Dean to ask Parvati out for Valentine's Day. She sighed. Oh, well. She was used to Che's ways. Valentine's Day wasn't something that suited him well.

She didn't see the scheming glances shared by Lavender and Parvati after she exited the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Here, these might help you."

Harry looked up from his homework. He had been in the library for the better part of three hours, desperately trying to catch up in his classes. He couldn't remember how he had gotten this far behind in his workload. He stared at Cesare blankly with tired eyes.

"What might help me?" he asked confused.

"These." Cesare tipped a stack of books onto the table. Harry eyed the top one. _Understanding Your Spirit Animal: Don't be despaired if you're an insect!_ He leafed through it with an amused smile. 

Che took the seat across from him. "It's for your Animagi research," he offered helpfully.

"My Animagi research?"

Cesare narrowed his eyes. "You know, that thing where you become an animal. Don't you want to know more about your animal?"

Harry kept his eyes focused on the messy scrawl that passed for his scribbled Charms essay. "Er, actually I think I might pick something else."

"Not the cobra? Why?

"The idea of being a snake makes me want to puke."

Che rolled his eyes. "That's ridiculous superstition. There's nothing wrong with snakes. Besides, aren't you a Parseltongue anyway?" He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Bad experiences," Harry muttered vaguely. _Nagini__._

"I'd urge you to reconsider. The asp would be a good Animagus form. They're not bad creatures; they just have a nasty reputation." Cesare looked up and noticed Ron approaching the table. He quickly stood up.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked. 

Che's gaze left Ron's direction and he cracked a small smile at Harry. "You got other company coming," he said lightly. He laid another book on top of the pile he'd placed in front of Harry. There was an enchanted photograph of a large crimson and gold phoenix on the gilded cover. "It's about magical birds. I spotted it and thought Ron could make good use of it," he explained with a shrug.

Harry was struck by how ridiculous the unspoken conflict between Cesare and Ron was. The two would actually have made good friends. He was surprised by Che's thoughtfulness for someone who made such a display of hating him. 

"Don't tell him it's from me," Che smirked and left the table before Harry could utter another word.

Cesare made it as far as the doors when he was accosted by Lavender Brown and Parvati Patel. The two had been waiting for him behind a tall, dusty bookshelf.

Lavender smiled warmly, with undisguised intent in her eyes. She drawled out his name. "Ceeeeesare, how good to see you."

He was slightly taken aback by her greeting. "Ah......I'm good, Lavender. And yourself?" he asked politely, while backing towards the exit.

Parvati swiftly crossed in back of him and gently took his arm. "Che, Che, Che. We must talk. Lavender and I have just had the most distressing news."

Lavender took his other arm and pulled him towards a table. She was still smiling sweetly as she pushed him into a chair. The two girls took seats across from his and folded their hands in a professional manner. They eyed a bewildered Cesare very sternly.

"Now. There are a few things we _must discuss........."_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione rolled her eyes as she walked past the desk Parvati and Dean were sharing the next day. They were whispering with their heads close together, but Hermione could make out Dean's wide grin and Parvati's batting eyelashes. 

Valentine's Day. What a ridiculous concept. All day the corridors had echoed with the excited giggles of hopeful girls. Suddenly everyone was eying each other with romantic thoughts in their heads. How bloody stupid.

Of course, she wasn't resentful because her _own boyfriend had ignored her the entire day. That had nothing to do with it. After all, why should she be disappointed that on the first Valentine's Day she actually __had a boyfriend (Krum didn't count) he hadn't said two words to her? No, that wasn't affecting her mood at all._

She pulled out the chair next to Cesare, making sure the legs scraped against the floor. He didn't look up at the noise. She sat down and scowled as he continued to appear unaware of her presence. He was absentmindedly doodling on a spare bit of parchment; his eyes focused towards the front of the classroom.

"Hello to you too," she said scathingly.

Che eye's flickered briefly in her direction. He seemed surprised to find her sitting there and Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Hey," he muttered before turning his attention back to the front of the room. _Men are so completely clueless sometimes_," she thought. Hermione caught another glimpse of Dean and Parvati sweetly flirting and cursed the bit of jealousy she could not deny.

Professor Almari walked in at that moment and class started. Throughout the lesson, Hermione shot glances at Che, but he ignored her. She grew more annoyed as the minutes ticked by. When the bell rang, she jumped out of her seat and charged towards the door.

~*~*~*~

"Harry and Ron? May I speak with you two for a moment?"

Harry swung his bag onto his shoulder and turned around. Almari was looking at him expectantly. With a glance towards Ron, the two walked over to the teacher's desk.

Almari smiled warmly. "Ron, Harry tells me you are willing to help him learn Legilimency. This is very kind of you."

Ron ears turned slightly pink at the praise. "It's nothing," he insisted, but with a trace of uncertainty in his voice. Harry didn't blame him; he wasn't fond of people breaking into his mind either.

"I was wondering if you two would like to start tonight?" she asked. "You can come before dinner. I'll have some food sent."

Harry and Ron exchanged affirmative nods. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Excellent. Ron, welcome to our very exclusive Occlumency and Legilimency group," the jinn said with a smile. "I'll see you two tonight.

They left the classroom and walked to their next lessons. "You're positive about doing this, right mate?" Harry asked. "I mean, I completely understand if you don't want to. I wouldn't blame you at all. You wouldn't have to feel guilty or anything."

Ron held up his hand to interrupt his friend. "Relax. I told you before, I'm doing this. I want to help you. Really. This is important, I mean, after last year and all........" his voice trailed off as Harry looked away. 

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence at the mention of the unspoken subject. Harry stared at the small patch of dusty winter sun illuminating the worn floor. Ron bit his lip and then opened his mouth slowly, as if uncertain of the reaction his words might produce.

"Harry......you know, you can talk about it. Really, I don't mind. In fact, it might be good for you. It's been awhile now." He watched his friend with concern.

Harry didn't say anything at first; just fidgeted with the strap of his bag and continued to avoid Ron's gaze. Why didn't he talk about, he wondered. Ron was right; it had been several months since Sirius's death. While thoughts of his late godfather continued to creep into his mind, Harry realized he didn't think of Sirius everyday. When had that happened? Sirius used to dominate Harry's life. He had been reminded of the beloved Animagus constantly. When had that changed? Did it mean that Harry was simply healing and going on with his life? Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that. He didn't want to ever forget his godfather.

"Harry?" Ron asked, when he didn't respond. Harry looked up. "I'm fine," he said softly. His mantra. _I'm fine. I'm always fine. "I should be getting to Dueling. And you don't want to be late to Herbology," he added quickly._

Ron looked a little surprised at the rapid change of subject, but his voice indicated weary acceptance. Harry still didn't want to talk about his godfather's murder. "Yeah, you're right. Sprout gets all in a huff when I'm late. Get it? In a huff? She's in charge of Hufflepuff?" The joke was terrible, but the attempt to lighten Harry's dark mood was a sign of the deep friendship they shared.

Harry couldn't hide the small smile that broke across his face at Ron's incredibly lame pun. "I'll see you later," he said before heading to his next class.

~*~*~*~

Hermione had time to drop by Gryffindor Tower and pick up her books for Arithmancy before class. She dropped her bag on her bed and searched for a rubber band to put up her thick hair. It was driving her crazy today. She stood in front of the mirror and as she swept her hair up into a ponytail, she saw two people reflected behind her shoulder.

Completely startled, she jumped and whirled around. She caught her breathe when she realized it was just Parvati and Lavender. "Dear Merlin, you two scared me," she said with a laugh.

The joke was apparently not shared by either of them. Parvati screeched and hurried forward, snatching the rubber band from her hand.

"What are you _doing_?! You can't wear your hair in ponytail!" Parvati held up a brush that seemed to have appeared from thin air—or Parvati's expansive collection of beauty and grooming supplies—and started yanking it through Hermione's hair.

"Ouch! What are _you_ doing?!" Hermione yelled, echoing the other girl's words. But her attention was suddenly drawn to Lavender, who was anxiously rummaging through Hermione wardrobe.

"Oh, I can't find anything in here!" she complained and dumped Hermione's clothes to the ground in a crumpled heap. Hermione was so shocked she couldn't even protest. Lavender started going through her own wardrobe and then Parvati's.

Meanwhile, Parvati had taken advantage of the distraction, and was expertly applying make-up to Hermione's face. "Sit still," she snapped, when Hermione tried to stand up. Hermione was about to ask them if they had been sniffing potion fumes, when Lavender hurried forward with a beaming smile.

"This is it! This is perfect!" She held up a stylish light purple robe. It looked light and airy, definitely not suitable for Hogwart's cold February weather. 

Parvati looked up from her careful work. "Hey, that's mine!" 

Lavender shot her a look and the other girl backed down. "But...... er, of course she can wear it," she added quickly.

Hermione jumped up from the bed and held her hands out to protect herself from the other girls. "What is _going on here?!" she demanded._

Parvati and Lavender exchanged glances and then looked at her. "He didn't tell you yet?" Lavender rolled her eyes. "Guys. Never trust them to do anything."

Hermione blinked. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Nevermind. There's no time," Parvati said as she grabbed a small pot of a silvery gel-like substance. She smeared some of it her hands and ran it through Hermione's hair. She wiped her hands on a piece of cloth and then took out her wand. "Callapelli bellirini."

Hermione felt an odd sensation has her thick hair was suddenly transformed into shiny, chestnut curls. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and was pleasantly surprised.

Lavender and Parvati studied her. "Okay, I guess she's good. No time for the robe. Oh, well." Lavender started pushing her towards the door. 

Hermione made a valiant attempt to grab her books and escape, but the two other girls continued to usher her downstairs.

"I'm going to be late to class!" she protested and tried to wriggle free.

"Relax, _carina. There is no class."_

Che was lounging in one of the squashy chairs near the fire with his feet up on the table. His arms were crossed behind his head and he looked perfectly comfortable.

"There's no class?" she repeated in disbelief.

"No. Professor Vector has suddenly taken violently ill. Unfortunately, this occurred just recently and Dumbledore has been unable to secure a replacement for today's class," Cesare announced this like someone would discuss the weather.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What did you do to her?" she asked suspiciously.

He didn't even try to look offended. "I'm disappointed that you think I would affect the health of one of my teachers just to have class cancelled." He smiled mischievously. "Anyway, that frees up our afternoon."

"What are you taking about? And what are you _wearing?" she asked, noticing his clothes. Che was dressed in dark beige robe, much more fashionably cut than the robes that were worn in school._

"This?" he asked, fingering the robe. "It will blend in more where we are going."

She crossed her arms and tried not to look too confused. "And just where are we going?"

Che stood up and with a gesture of his head, Parvati and Lavender disappeared upstairs. He crossed the room to stand in front of Hermione. He held his chin in one hand in a scholarly manner and looked at her with amused eyes.

"I have been made aware of some sort of Western holiday that occurs today. Valencia's day or something....."

"Valentine's Day," she corrected.

"Yeah, that. Anyway, I was told that it's a tragedy if a couple doesn't do something and that it was very itypical/i of me to forget about it." Che couldn't hide his smile.

"Parvati and Lavender," Hermione muttered. She was going to curse them.....

"You have very determined friends," he said with a laugh. "Anyway, so I figured I should plan a little something. Nothing major, just dinner, or something." He slid his hand towards the small of her back and began leading her towards the fireplace, while reaching inside his pocket with the other hand.

"Of course, we might have to slightly _bend a few school rules......."_

"What exactly does _bend_ mean?" she asked cautiously.

"Nothing terrible," he assured. "It's not bad at all, really."

"Ooookay," she said slowly, suddenly having doubts about this plan. Before she could say anything else, he withdrew his hand from his pocket and tossed glistening powder into the fire. Emerald flames shot up and Cesare pulled her in with him.

"Belmagina!"

Hermione yelled and tried to pull away, but he held her tight and they disappeared in a swirl of sparkling flames.

Parvati and Lavender had been spying from the stairwell. Lavender sighed. "Now that is going to be romantic!"

Parvati nodded. "I'd say our job here is well done."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione started screaming at him as soon as they stopped traveling. They stepped out of a tall worn stone fireplace in a bare high-ceilinged room. Sunlight streamed in through ancient cracked windows.

"Cesare, please, please tell me that we're not in Belmagina," Hermione begged.

He looked pleased. "You've heard of it?"

"Yes, I've heard of it. As is Belmagina, the wizarding community outside Naples. As in Naples, _Italy. As in a FORIEGN COUNTRY!"_

"Very intelligent deduction."

She was horrified. "You said you planned _dinner."_

"I did. In Italy."

"_Bend_ the rules? Che, we're going to be expelled!"

"No, we're not, they would never expel us. You, Miss Prefect could commit an Unforgivable Curse under McGonagall's noise and get away with a light detention. And I'm in the exchange program. They wouldn't want to damage their 'precious international ties'. Besides, there's nothing in the rules about going to another country during school. I checked." He sounded very confident.

"I think that's because it's assumed no one is going to go globe-trotting during Potions!"

He shrugged. "Like I said before. The Founders lacked imagination." He grabbed her hand and smiled. "Now, come on. We are not going to get caught. Trust me."

They walked towards a door at the far end of the room. Che held it open for her and Hermione stepped out. She was momentarily blinded by the bright sun. When the spots in front of her eyes faded, she was even more dazzled by what she saw.

The village was situated among the cliffs, overlooking the sea. Sparkling light danced across the smooth waves. The sky was so blue that looking at it hurt her eyes. And the town itself was magnificent to behold. Stone buildings, painted in bright whites and pastels were clustered next to and on top of one another. Red and brown tiled roofs stood out amongst green trees and vibrant flowering vines.

Small shops and stalls covered the narrow, ancient streets. Vendors hawked their wares, inviting customers to come and compare their prices. Everything seemed to be on sale. Hermione saw a stall selling multi-colored glass bottles, the one next to it was covered by stylish wizarding hats, and aromatic scents wafted from the closest stall.

Cesare wrapped his arm around her waist. "_Benvenuto__ a Belmagina," he whispered in her ear._

She felt some of her anxiety at getting caught dissipate. Cesare's hand slid down her shoulder and he intertwined his fingers with hers. He pulled her out into the street.

"Come now, smile. It is not so bad, no? I'll show you where I spent my summers." He held a finger to her lips. "And no more talk about getting in trouble. Trust me. I wouldn't let them catch you."

Hermione let herself relax. She was in a beautiful, romantic place with Che. She had been filled with growing stress due to schoolwork and the problems with Ron. She would give herself today to enjoy.

She leaned against his shoulder. "Okay, _italiano. Show me the sights."_

Che smiled. "I will. But first......" he inspected the sleeve of her thick, black Hogwarts robe and shook his head. "We are going to make you look like an Italian."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry heard a loud bang as the Fat Lady's portrait slammed against the wall. He looked up from his essay on Cleaning Charms and saw Ron scrambling out from the passage into the Gryffindor common room. He looked irritated.

"All these bloody saps. Snogging all over the place. Damn holiday," he cursed and then stumbled over a chair leg.

"Nice entrance," Harry remarked. Ron scowled. 

"Dean and Parvati are the new thing or so it seems. Had to sit next to Dean while he made eyes at her." Ron dropped his bag on the table and a roll of parchment spilled out from the messy contents.

"Dean and Parvati?" Harry asked. "Thought he was with Ginny."

"Nah, mate. Keep up with the times. That's been over for ages. 'Cept she won't tell me who the new boyfriend is. 'None of my damn business' apparently. She thinks I'd harass him or something."

Harry turned his laugh into a cough and looked at his watch. "We should go. Almari will be expecting us."

Ron nodded and the two left. As they walked towards Almari's office, Ron glanced at Harry anxiously.

"Y'know, if you see something embarrassing in my head, do me a favor and lie to Almari about it," he asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. I probably won't see anything. I think Almari overestimates my potential. I'll probably stare at your forehead for an hour and only get a headache."

He knocked on the door and heard the jinn tell him to come in. Harry opened the door and he and Ron walked inside the Defense Master's office. Harry was still always taken slightly aback by the room. It looked so different from the rest of the castle. It seemed like he was walking into a room in India or Morocco.

Almari wasn't in her usual seat behind the desk. Harry looked for her and saw the black-haired professor seated on a floor cushion besides the book shelves. That part of the room was richly carpets and vibrant colored silk cushions were strewn about.

"Come. We will be more comfortable over here if either of you pass out," she said with a wink. Ron grew noticeably paler.

"A joke, Mr.Weasley," she assured.

They sat. Harry, having grown used to the jinn's odd ways, looked comfortable. Ron still looked nervous and Harry felt a pang of guilt for asking his friend to do this.

"Let us start. Now Harry, we have gone over some of the techniques, yes?" Almari looked at him.

"Yeah. The incantation and stuff."

"Yes, do you remember it?" she asked.

"Of course," he answered. "Legilimens."

"Very good." Almari took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and then exhaled slowly, keeping them closed. "I am going to help you on your first few tries."

Harry felt sudden warmth in his mind and knew she was giving him strength. Although jinn magic was still a mystery to him, the two had worked together for several months on Occlumency. It had been work like this, mostly mental, and her presence in his mind felt very natural.

"Okay, we are going to start easy," she continued. "Ron, I want you to think of a Quidditch memory. A single image. Concentrate very hard on it and only it."

"Uh, huh," he murmured. "Got it."

"And Harry, with this topic in mind, you are going to try to pick up on the image. Say the incantation and concentrate. Try to imagine yourself in Ron's mind. Pretend you are him, if it helps. Understand?"

Harry heard Ron try to suppress a laugh at the idea of Harry pretending to be him. "I understand," he said, trying to remain serious.

"Start."

He pointed his wand towards Ron. "Legilimens!" He stared at Ron's closed eyelids, willing something to happen. Nothing did. 

There was a light touch upon his thoughts that felt almost physical. _Almari._ He tried to draw from the power he felt emanating from her small frame. He emptied his mind and became more aware of his surroundings: the soft silk underneath him, the steady ticking of a clock, the fragrance of smoldering jasmine incense.

_Quidditch.__ Think Quidditch. He visited his own memories. Images of his beloved sports blurred past in slideshow of colors: green grass, blue sky, scarlet and gold robes._

One image stuck out, calling attention to itself. As if he was hovering in the air above, he saw three huddled wet figures against the dark Quidditch pitch. Lightening lit up the scene. 

He looked more closely and recognized the trio. Hermione, Harry, and Ron. Hermione was holding Harry's glasses in one hand and waving her wand over them. Ron and Harry watched her anxiously.

Harry smiled to himself at the memory of Hermione bewitching his glasses to make them waterproof. As he stared at the trio, an odd thing happened. He noticed more than just the physical elements of the image. He saw the rain, heard the thunder, but this was different. He could almost feel what was happening. The past emotions of his friends and former self came alive. Hermione's worry hit him as hard as a punch. Ron's concern was tangible. His own determination to win surrounded him.

All the feeling were connected. They swirled about his mind and fused together. And he suddenly understood. It was the bond between the three of them that had caused this entire scene. The deep friendship they shared.

He couldn't explain what happened right after that. Suddenly he felt completely recharged and powerful, as if he could take on the world. It was an odd feeling. However, he was still thinking of Ron's memory. A surge of images and emotions pounded into him, faster than he could comprehend what was going on. He saw flashes of the Weasley family: the twins joking, Ginny smiling, Mrs. Weasley yelling, Mr. Weasley in the hospital recovering from a snake bite, and more. A toddler Ron held up his pudgy arms to his waiting mother. Harry saw his own face meeting Ron for the first time. Harry and Ginny emerging from the Chamber of Secrets. An image of Hermione crying when Ron yelled at Crookshanks. 

The visions sped up and his hands flew up to his head which felt like it was going to explode. Harry and Ron playing wizard's chess. The three of them at Hogsmeade drinking butterbeer. Cleaning and cracking jokes with the twins at Grimmauld Place. Studying with Hermione. Harry standing in the hospital wing, looking broken and defeated after Sirius's death.

He couldn't stand the onslaught anymore. His head was burning. _Stop it, stop it, stop_! he cried to himself. 

Suddenly cool hands were holding his face gently and he heard a soft voice chanting in unknown and incomprehensible tongue. The images stopped and his eyes snapped open. He was breathing heavily and felt cold sweat break across his brow. 

Harry saw Ron staring at him, his mouth hanging open and his eyes disbelieving. 

"Sit back, Harry," a voice said soothingly. "It is over." Almari handed him a glass of water and he leaned against the cushions.

"Are you alright? Do you feel dizzy or disorientated?" she asked with a concerned face.

Harry sipped the water and felt a little better. "No, I'm okay," he said slowly. "But.....what just _happened_?

The jinn looked a bit less anxious after he said he was alright, but her face was still dark with worry and.......something else that Harry could not make out. Was it fear? Confusion? Or something entirely different?

She was silent for a moment and looked very pensive. She stared at him intently; her dark eyes boring into his skull, and then spoke. "I was hoping you could tell me what happened," she confessed slowly. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"How's this one?" Hermione asked. She held out her arms, and spun slowly, displaying the deep indigo robe. She stared at Che expectantly. They had been shopping for almost two hours. She was surprised he still seemed relatively patient. Hermione was starting to feel edgy, but the shopkeepers were so eager and earnest; she couldn't bring herself to be rude.

This was the third in a series of upscale wizarding wear boutiques. Hermione had never been in a shop like this in her life. The store owners seemed to know Cesare and brightened up when he started chattering away in Italian. There had been several exuberant cries of "_Certamente!" and then two women had whisked her into a dressing room the size of a large classroom._

"Too dark," he commented on the robe. At the sight of Che's disapproval, the two attendants looked heartbroken and Hermione struggled not to laugh. They led her back to the dressing room and then disappeared for a few minutes. When they returned, one woman was carefully holding a light lavender robe in her arms. She held it up for Hermione to look at.

It was gorgeous. Hermione didn't care much for fashion, but she would swear that she had seen a witch modeling this very robe in one style magazines Ginny had left lying around Grimmauld Place. 

"You like?" The witch asked after she had tried it on, a hopeful expression on her face.

Oh, she liked alright. It was probably the most stylish thing she had ever worn. The color looked nice against her complexion and brown hair.

Che agreed when she came out. "_Mi piace molto," he said with a smile. Hermione fumbled at the back of the robe. "Wait, let me check the price. I can't find the tag."_

He laughed. "They don't have price tags here, _carina." He wrote something on a slip of paper and handed it to the owner. "__Molto__ grazie._ ArrivaderLa, signorine."__

He slipped his arm through Hermione's and led her back outside. The sun was starting to set; the crimson and gold sphere slowly slipping beneath the Mediterranean blue. 

A little while later, they were seated at a white-clothed table on a terrazzo overlooking the water. A black haired waiter came over and spoke to Cesare in Italian.

Hermione gazed at the magnificent view of the village, and stole a few glances at Che. He looked so comfortable here, speaking Italian at nearly the speed of light with the waiter and gesturing with his hands for emphasis. It wasn't hard to picture him in this beautiful place as a child, yet he'd had a horrible childhood. She shivered and wondered if his uncle's villa was nearby. She'd never met the man, but for some reason, the thought of him sent chills down her arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry looked thoughtfully at his goblet of pumpkin juice. After the bizarre Legilimency experience, Almari had had food brought up and the three of them discussed what could have happened. They were no closer to solving the mystery now then they had been an hour before.

"There seems to be a connection between the images you saw, Harry," Almari remarked as she neatly scooped up a bit of rice with her right hand. "It's vague, but a possibility."

"There is?" 

"Well for instance, you didn't see any memories of Ron doing homework or performing a spell. All the memories were of people in his life. Friends and family he cares for."

Ron's eyes lit up and he nearly choked on a biscuit. "Y'know, she's right! I didn't think of that, but it's true."

Ideas were connecting in Harry's mind. "When I saw the images, I also _felt_ something attached with each one. The same thing happened when I first recognized his Quidditch memory. It's odd, but I could almost touch our past emotions. They were so strong. And they all kinda blended together to......I dunno how to explain it.......but it sorta represented our friendship. Do you understand what I'm saying?" he asked, feeling rather ridiculous for talking about touchy-feely emotions with the Defense professor.

Ron clearly wasn't following; he was looking at Harry like he'd dyed his hair pink. But Almari was studying him carefully. "Yes, Mr. Potter.........I think I do."

There was something else he was forgetting. Harry desperately tried to think of it. He felt like there was another piece of the puzzle missing that would allow him to understand what had happened. He knew what the piece was, just couldn't remember at the moment. But Almari's guess had triggered it. _Something about caring_.

The jinni was still staring at him and Harry felt uncomfortable. She seemed to look right through him and know he was hiding something. He returned her gaze uneasily, until she looked away.

"It is getting late," she interrupted. "You two will want to get back to your dorm before curfew. She stood up and then opened the door for them.

Harry was halfway there when he realized Ron wasn't following him. He looked over his shoulder and saw Ron's attention focused on a spot behind the bookshelf.

"Ron?"

Ron whirled around, with a guilty look on his face. "Sorry, wasn't paying attention." He scrambled to his feet and hurried towards Harry. Almari bid them goodnight and they left.

"Did you notice what she had in her office?" Ron asked eagerly, as they headed up the quiet staircase towards Gryffindor Tower. They both instinctively jumped over the trick step.

"No. Is that what you were looking at?" Harry responded. Ron tugged on his sleeve and he stopped. Ron quickly glanced around, but the wide hallway was empty and silent except for the whispers of portraits.

"She has a Pensieve in her office," he said with a knowing look.

"So?"

"So? Duh, Harry." Ron looked exasperated. "She suddenly has Pensieve in her office the same night you start learning Legilimency? If you ask me, she didn't want to you to see something."

Harry rolled his eyes. "We don't know that she didn't have it the entire time. I think you're being paranoid."

"Maybe," Ron said, but he sounded doubtful. "But didn't Snape use one when he didn't want you to see stuff? A lot of people use them to hide their thoughts from Legilimens."

Harry shook his head and they continued walking. "I think you're wrong. Besides, you already admitted that she's a jinn and an ex Death Eater. What else could she be hiding?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I don't care what you say. That waiter was completely taken with you. _Bella signorina_ this, and _bella__ signorina that. If he stared at you any longer, his eyeballs would have wasted away!"_

Hermione laughed as they walked down the beach. "He was just trying to be polite!" she protested. "He probably wanted a good tip."

"He's lucky his tip wasn't me throwing him over the railing," Che threatened, but teasingly so.

It had grown very dark. The village lights were behind them and the stars and moon reflected upon the black waves. Hermione suddenly stumbled and landed in a sandy pile, bringing Che down as well.

"Have we had a bit too much wine?" he joked. "Can't even walk without falling down...."

"You should talk! I abstained from the alcohol, thank you very much. You on the other hand........"

"It's healthy," he insisted, "better than vegetables."

She rolled her eyes and leaned against his back. "You're crazy."

"I won't argue with that," he said and lightly stroked her hair. "Oh, I almost forgot." He grabbed at something around his neck and then muttered. "I can't see a thing. Lumos."

Che froze. He had said it naturally, without even taking out his wand. His heart skipped a beat, but Hermione's attention was focused towards the sea. She hadn't seen anything. He breathed a sigh a relief. He'd just come very close to performing wandless magic in front of another person. Too close.

He took his glowing wand from his pocket and held it up, illuminating the small pendent in his hand. The gold caught the light and reflected it in wild angles. Hermione took it and ran her fingers over the strange designs.

"What is it?" she asked puzzled.

Che rested his chin on her shoulder and looked down at the necklace as she held it in her hands. "My mother's cartouche. The hieroglyphics read Kalila. It was her Arabic name. It means dearly loved." He closed Hermione's fingers around it. "I want you to have it," he said quietly.

She whirled around to face him. "Che! You can't give this to me! It's your mother's!"

"No," he insisted. "I want you to hold on to it for me." She started to protest again, but he quickly interrupted. "Do you remember when you asked me if I trusted you? And I said I wasn't sure?"

Hermione nodded, realization dawning in her mind.

Cesare wrapped his palm around her enclosed fist. "Well, I do. And I want you to know that. I trust you to hold on to this for me."

She looked at him and something inside her broke. How had this strange person entered and changed her life so easily? The relationship didn't seem logical at first. He came from a foreign land she had never seen, brought up in a family that hated people like her, with extensive riches at his hands. Many of those characteristics could also be attributed to a person she hated: Draco Malfoy. But hate wasn't the emotion she felt when she looked at Che. He made her laugh, cry, and feel something she'd never understood. Tears nearly sprung to her eyes as she gazed at his face; his brown eyes draped in shadows. She knew how significant this was to him.

"I will. I'll keep it safe," she promised. "I....." an odd feeling broke over her, something she wasn't used to at all. She hesitated, uncertain whether to continue. Uncertain how he would respond. "Che, I think........I think I'm in love with you," she confessed.

He blinked and Hermione saw an emotion she usually didn't see on his face. Shock. _Oh, that's a nice response, she thought sarcastically. _Shock and terror_._

Che was silent for a few minutes and had trouble meeting her eyes. Finally he looked up, and Hermione saw the traces of a smile at the corners of his mouth. "No one has ever said anything like that to me," he remarked. "Thank you," he murmured.

_Thank you? That's it_? she thought. Her face must have betrayed her thoughts, because Che grimaced and added, "I guess I'm supposed to say more than that."

She grew annoyed and turned away. "Not if you don't want to."

"Ah....don't be like that. You know how I feel about you." He took her chin in his hand and turned her face back towards his. "You know I love you." Then he dropped his hand and laughed out loud. "Dear Merlin, that was strange!"

She slapped his arm. "You're so unromantic!" she complained, but she didn't sound upset. She wasn't the overly sentimental type anyway. She felt a bit awkward and something prompted her to check her watch. When she did, she gasped. "Che, we have to get back! It's already past curfew!"

"So?" he asked, but stood anyway. "We should wait a little later. We don't want to Floo into the common room when people are there." He helped her up and she gazed at the ocean once more.

"It really is beautiful here," she said as they walked off the beach, avoiding the small fishing boats that gleamed in the moonlight. "Do you think you will come back here after graduation?"

"Here? No," he said quickly. "Bad memories," he added quietly. "Besides, Egypt is my real home. That is where I feel I belong. I've only lived in Italy during the summers."

She was intrigued. "Why did your family decide to leave Egypt?" She realized she didn't know.

He snickered and she could have sworn a flicker of embarrassment swept across his face. "Well, exile doesn't give you much choice to do otherwise," he said sarcastically.

"_Exile?_" she repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah. My great-grandparents were obsessed with their ancestry. They started to go a little _pazzesco, crazy, at the thought of Muggles trouncing on 'their' history. So their response was to bewitch the sands around the pyramids to swallow Muggles."_

Hermione gasped. "They did _what?"_

"Oh, they didn't stop there," he said with a sardonic smile. "Some famous Muggle archeologist was exploring the tomb of an old pharaoh. Tutankhamun, I think it was. Anyway, great granddad cursed the tomb and the archeologists started having accidents that resulted in their tragic and bizarre deaths, and the Egyptian Ministry of Magic went nuts. They were never able to completely contain the crisis and Muggles still talk about that curse today." He laughed. "The Jalil's couldn't buy their way out of that disaster and the Ministry kicked them out of the country."

"So they came to Italy?"

"Yes. The Italian Ministry was furious. I don't think the Italian and Egyptian Ministers got along too well after that. Anyway, my great grandparents moved into an old villa near here."

"Close to Belmagina, right?" she asked.

He nodded. "Very close, actually. Within walking distance. Yet one can only see it if they are a family member or have been brought by someone who knows the way. For extra security." He looked thoughtful. "We have some time. I will show you," he said with a mischievous grin.

They turned onto a narrow, dirt path that twisted into some scraggly trees. The path took them higher on the cliff and Hermione's legs started to ache. Suddenly Che stopped and stared across the water. A short peninsula jutted into the sea. It was covered in trees and nothing else.

"I don't see anything," she whispered.

"You will." He brought out his wand and aimed it at the distant rocky cliff. "Aparecia anigla!"

As if it were a desert mirage shimmering in the noon sun, a magnificent white structure slowly rose from where there had been nothing. Her mouth dropped open. It was huge! It had to be several stories high and had tall towers at each corner that reached even further into the sky. The alabaster marble glowed in the darkness. It looked peaceful, quite, and serene.

He seemed to read her mind. "Looks can be deceiving," he warned. He stared at the grand building across the water with angry eyes. "I wonder if the devil is in tonight," he muttered bitterly.

Hermione glanced over and was disturbed by the twisted expression he wore. It was clear even looking at the place distressed him. "Let's go," she said quietly. Without another word, they headed back to the town, Hermione clinging tightly to his hand, unable to shake off the eerie feeling the villa had given her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry didn't realize how exhausted he was until he collapsed onto his warm bed. He pulled off his sneakers, muttered a good night to Ron, and settled under the thick blankets.  His mind ached and he closed his weary eyes. He was asleep in minutes.

_Doors spun around him as he stood in the Department of Mysteries. He waited patiently until they stopped. He knew exactly where to go. The formidable black door loomed over him and the knob was icy when he touched it. It was locked, but that could not prevent Harry's entrance. What was in there belonged to him and he was determined to take it._

_He turned the knob and lock gave out. The door groaned with disuse as he pushed it open and stepped inside. It was very dark and he blinked as his eyes grew used to the shadowy blue glow. _

_He looked around. The room seemed to be empty. Then he spotted something silvery gleaming in one of the corners. He narrowed his eyes and walked towards it._

_It was an old mirror, with an ugly greenish brown frame. He looked at his reflection, but found that the person gazing back was not him. It was a young woman with sparkling green eyes and long red hair. His mother._

_"The Mirror of Erised........." he whispered, but the image of his mother shook her head and then spoke. _

_"I am not who you think I am and this is not the mirror of which you speak, but its sister. You are seeking something, Harry Potter and that is what you will see reflected in this glass."_

_"I don't know what I am seeking," he murmured in his dream._

_She looked at him with sad determination. "Answers, Harry Potter. You seek answers to the questions that have plagued you. You seek to know if you can defeat him. The answers you desire cannot be found behind any of these doors, Harry Potter. They dwell in your heart." She touched a pale hand to her chest._

Harry suddenly stirred in his sleep and the vision disappeared. He recalled a confused version of it for a minute, but then as he fell back into other dreams, the message from the Department of Mysteries was lost.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cesare and Hermione crept out of the fireplace and into the quiet common room. He smiled. "I told you we would not get caught."

A yawn slipped past her mouth. "Uh, huh," she said tiredly.

He kissed her gently. "Good night, Hermione."

"Night. And Che," she lightly touched his cheek. "Thank you for tonight. It was perfect. And amazing. And probably other things that I am too tired to think of right now."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, _habibi. Now go to sleep."_

Hermione dragged herself up the stairs towards her room. She knew Lavender and Parvati would try to keep her up by forcing her relieve every detail of the trip. But she couldn't bring herself to feel annoyed. She was filled with a delighted, airy feeling after tonight. It had truly been magical.

As she opened the door to her room and was greeted by the squeals of her roommates, she was mercifully spared foresight. She had no suspicion that in a few weeks she would look back upon this night and be haunted by betrayal and pain.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

-_~ Author's Note ~_-

Please review!

This story now has a website! Please check it out by linking to it from my author's profile or using this address:   
You can see images of the characters and I have some great resources for writers and readers alike.

Thanks to those who did review!

THW

Lovevanillacreme

Redandgoldlion: i wrote you an e-mail regarding many of your questions. Tell me if you received it. Thanks for your review!

Emeraleyes

crookshankskitty


	19. Battle for the Quidditch House Cup

Disclaimer: Refer to my previous ones if you have some odd desire to see one.  
Author's Note: I know it has been a long time, so if you don't remember what has been happening, feel free to browse the earlier chapters.  


~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~  
  
_Reveal not every secret you have to a friend, for how can you tell but that friend may hereafter become an enemy. And bring not all mischief you are able to upon an enemy, for he may one day become your friend.   
~ Saadi  
  
Nothing makes us as lonely as our secrets.  
~ Paul Tournier_  
  
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~  
  
**Chapter Eighteen  
Battle for the Quidditch House Cup**

  
  
The morning of February 25th dawned, cold and clear. There was a hush in the air, a tingling electrical feeling that made the very wind buzz with warning. Hogwarts looked picturesque; almost like a swirling, glass snow globe. Only the atmosphere of dread that hung about the castle like a determined spectre marred its beauty.  
  
Inside the castle was very different from the outside serenity. Excited whispers and fleeting glances interrupted most of the lessons. The House Championship was being held tonight, and there was nothing like Quidditch to completely disrupt a normal school day. Professor McGonagall finally erupted at her sixth year Transfigurations class.  
  
"For good heavens! Now, I am just as excited as you all are about tonight's match against Slytherin, but you don't see me acting as an uncontrollable as a first year!"  
  
This outburst was enough to properly silence her class. Harry stopped describing defensive plays to Ron and went back to researching the roots of Mulruptus Transformations. This was a very difficult method of transfiguring a previously transfigured object into something else. First he turned a glass marble into a glass goblet, but then he was supposed to transfigure it into a glass bowl. The only thing that had happened when he attempted this was for the goblet to give a violent shudder, before shattering over his desk. McGonagall had been very displeased.  
  
After the lesson had ended, Harry quickly started talking about the championship match again.  
  
"Okay, Ron, I want you to tell anyone you see from the team that I want to meet for a warm-up right before dinner. We'll just do some drills and reviews our plays for tonight. Where's Che? We can tell him now......." Harry craned his neck to see across the classroom. His eyes quickly clouded over and his brow crinkled.  
  
Ron looked towards the desk Cesare usually shared with Hermione and saw only Hermione hastily copying down some last notes. The chair beside her was empty.  
  
Now Ron looked equally confused. "Huh, that's odd. You think he wouldn't want to jeopardize this game by snarking off classes today. If he gets caught not attending a lesson, he won't be able to play. Nice to know he's worried about the rest of the team," Ron said very sarcastically. "Oy, Hermione! Where's the fella?" he asked very obnoxiously.  
  
Harry didn't even have to look at Hermione to know she rolled her eyes. He gave her credit for simply taking a deep breath, then raising her eyes to look at Ron and replying—in a very controlled voice—"Are you trying to ask me something?"  
  
"Yeah, where's Cesare?" Ron sniped back.  
"I don't know. I haven't seen him all morning," Hermione replied quickly and stood up, clutching her books to her chest. "If I see him, I'll tell him that you're looking for him." Then, without another word, she hurried from the classroom.  
  
Ron snorted at her swift departure. "Some of his oddness is starting to rub off on her. Alright, I'll see if I can scrounge up the rest up the team who actually cares about—"  
  
"Not to interrupt your _obviously_ important conversation, but I need a word with you, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall called out to them from across the classroom.  
  
Harry tried to suppress a groan. Whenever McGonagall spoke like that it could never be good. Ron gave him a sympathetic smile, clapped him on the back, and left.  
  
McGonagall eyed him sternly from over the top of her dark, square-rimmed glasses. "I was speaking to Professor Dumbledore earlier, Harry, and your name came up. He requested that I ask you to go to his office directly after this lesson.  
  
His curiosity was piqued, but at the same time a small knot of dread tied up his stomach. What could Dumbledore want to talk to him about? Had Voldemort attacked somewhere? Did something happen in the Order? "Did he saw what he wanted to talk to me about?" Harry ventured carefully.  
  
"No, he didn't say. Just that he wanted to speak to you directly after class." McGonagall seemed a bit frazzled, so Harry didn't bother her again and simply slipped quietly out of the classroom.  
  
No sooner had he arrived in front of the stone gargoyles that guarded Dumbledore's office, than did he notice the door opening and that someone else was leaving. It was Professor Almari, walking very quickly with a worried expression on her normally calm visage.  
  
"Alright, Professor?" Harry asked respectively.  
  
She jumped slightly when he spoke and met his eyes anxiously. "You startled me! Yes, I'm alright. And you, Harry?"   
  
"I'm okay. Are you coming to the Quidditch game tonight?"  
  
She laughed her tinkling laugh which always reminded him of a waterfall. He wondered if it was a jinn thing. "Yes, if I can make it, I would be delighted to go. Hopefully I will have a close view of Professor Snape's face when Gryffindor wins." A devilish smile lit up her face, but she added hastily, "Not that I'm taking sides, of course. A professor would never do such a thing." She winked one of her dark eyes. "Good luck tonight, Harry."  
  
"Thanks," he replied as she walked away. He shook his head in puzzlement. What was between those two teachers?  
  
Harry tentatively knocked on the heavy wooden door. He heard Dumbledore's muffled voice tell him to enter.  
  
"Hullo, Harry," The Headmaster's twinkling blue eyes greeted him from over his spectacles. "Please sit." He waved a hand over the chair in front of his desk and then put down his quill. Dumbledore swiftly slid the piece of parchment out of view. Harry tried not to notice, but couldn't help wondering what Dumbledore had been writing.  
  
"My boy, you look apprehensive," Dumbledore said with a chuckle after Harry had been seated.  
  
Harry allowed himself an embarrassed smile. "Well, sir, to be honest, I am a bit on edge. It seems odd that Voldemort has been so quiet since last spring. I worried that you brought me here to tell me there had been an attack."  
  
Some of the twinkle left the Headmaster's sparkling eyes. "Yes, that concerns me also. Most of the Order believes that Voldemort may be planning something very big—and important enough that he wouldn't want to risk his plans being found out. I have difficulty understanding why else he would choose to remain relatively quiet."  
  
A trouble expression clouded Harry's face. "What do you think he's planning, sir?" he couldn't keep from asking.   
  
Dumbledore sighed. "I can be certain of nothing. The Order's operatives have yet to recover anything substantial." The Headmaster hesitated and seemed like he had more to say, but remained silent. After another moment, he continued. "But this was not the reason I wished to meet with you. Professor Almari has met with me on several occasions to speak about your progress in Occlumency and Legilimency. I am most impressed with your talent in the latter."  
  
Harry was dumbfounded. Dumbledore must not have heard Almari correctly. "But....I haven't got any talent! In fact, I messed up! All these visions started crowding my head. I had no control and nearly blacked out."  
  
"What to you seemed a failure was indeed of sign of the deepest success. You may not have control now.....but Harry, what you were able to do was extraordinary."  
  
_Extraordinary?_ "Sir?"   
  
Dumbledore smiled gently at his visible confusion, but his eyes remained very serious. "The visions a Legilimins receives are very similar to those seen in a Pensieve. When one views those images, you remain an observer–a distinct entity outside of those you view. Unless, you are practicing an advanced form of Legilimency, you cannot comprehend the emotions of those whose memories you access.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes. "But I did feel emotions," he said softly. "That's what was so powerful about it. I felt whatever Ron had felt at those moments in his life. Pain, relief, happiness."  
  
"But what did Ron originally think of?" Dumbledore prodded.  
  
"He.... he remembered a Quidditch game. From third year. There was a terrible storm and it was pouring rain. He and Hermione had come down to the pitch to help me. Hermione bewitched my glasses to make them repel raindrops."  
  
"And then?"  
  
Harry closed his eyes, trying to remember exactly what had happened next. "It felt like I was hovering over the three of us, getting closer and closer. And the closer I got, the stronger I could feel our emotions from that night." He opened his eyes and Dumbledore nodded for him to continue.  
  
"Then it almost felt like I could see our emotions. I know this must sound bizarre, but I saw our friendship. It became a visible, tangible thing." Harry felt slightly foolish, telling all this to Dumbledore, but perhaps the Headmaster could help him. Dumbledore had never steered him wrong before.  
  
Indeed the Headmaster looked very concerned and leaned in closer to Harry to better hear him. "And after you saw such a thing, what happened?" There was an undeniable urgency in his voice.  
  
Harry was looking at Dumbledore, but his green eyes were far-off, gazing into an unknown distance. He hesitated for a moment and the room's silence seemed deafening, like the calm before a great storm. Fawkes stirred from his golden perch and the silence was shattered.  
  
"I....I felt powerful.......invincible even," Harry said slowly, with a trace of awe in his voice. He hadn't realized this until now. "All my fears and anxieties were gone, and I was confident and calm. I felt like I could take on anything." He looked up in alarm. "Am I going mad?" he asked, only half-joking, and slunk back against his chair.  
  
Dumbledore's kind, blue eyes reassured him. "No, Harry, you are most certainly not going mad. If you have learned anything from your experiences in the magical world, it should be to always be prepared for the strange and unexpected. But... what is happening to you is extraordinary. And if I'm not mistaken, quite unique. Do you remember the prophecy from last year?"  
  
"Yes, but what does that have to do with this?" Harry asked, not wanting to get on the subject of the prophecy. He hated thinking about it, yet it was always haunting the corners of his mind, whispering his dire–and unavoidable–fate.  
  
"I believe it has everything to do with this," Dumbledore said heavily.   
  
"What....I already know that I have to kill Voldemort or be killed? I don't understand how...."  
The Headmaster cut him off with wave of his hand. Harry's words appeared to have hurt him, which made Harry feel slightly ashamed. Hadn't Dumbledore only been trying to look out for Harry's happiness? The Headmaster couldn't help if his pupil was destined to be either a murderer or murdered. "I do not speak of that, Harry. I speak of another part of the prophecy which foretells of your powers–powers that the Dark Lord has not."  
  
"So, are you saying this is that power? Am I supposed to defeat Voldemort by getting in touch with his emotional memories?" Harry said in disbelief, trying to keep the sarcasm from his voice.  
  
"No, Harry. What you did in your Legilimency lesson was a small demonstration of your power. I am not even sure what this special ability of yours is. All I know is that it is the direct opposite of what gives Voldemort power, and therefore the most effective weapon against him. Think on it. Voldemort could not harm you when you were younger because of the protection your mother gave you. Her love and willingness to die for you saved your life. Yet even after that protection was gone, Voldemort could still not stand to possess your body when we fought him in the spring. You are full of something he hates and fears, Harry."  
  
"But _what_? I don't understand."  
  
Dumbledore spread his arms out, with his palms facing outward, in motions which took in most of the room. "Simply put, you are his antithesis, Harry. His mirror opposite. You gain your strength by what is good and loved and cherished in this world. Voldemort seeks to tear down those values in his quest for domination and you are what he cannot defeat. It's the most elemental war of all time, Harry, and it's never won. Good versus evil. You and Voldemort are the ones playing out this particular battle. Your best defense against him is here, Harry," His hand hovered against his chest, directly above his heart.  
  
Harry was at a complete loss for words and his mouth opened and closed a few times as speech failed him. Could Dumbledore really mean what he said? That Harry would gain his strength from.....from what was good in this world? What the heck did that mean? He wondered if Dumbledore was intentionally being cryptic.  
  
"So....who usually wins in these battles?" Harry asked lightly.  
  
"Nothing is that simple. Some say good, some say bad, and some say both. It depends how you look on things. One could say Voldemort has better odds because he is evil and will do any despicable thing he must to beat you, while you hold yourself to certain ideals and morals. On the other hand, one could say that you will win because you fight not only for yourself, but for others, and this responsibility will drive you to success. As you see, I cannot answer your question." Dumbledore smiled sadly.  
  
Dumbledore's words were actually making Harry more confused; his philosophy was enough to make anyone dizzy. Just thinking about the prophecy and this epic battle he was supposedly locked into with Voldemort made his stomach churn. _Not very "hero-like_ he chided himself bitterly. But wouldn't it be madness if he looked forward to battling with Voldemort? Harry had already lost so much at the cruel hands of the evil lord: his parents, Sirius. And many had lost even more. Could he possibly beat such a fiend? He knew he had no choice; Voldemort had to be stopped or everything good in this world truly would be lost. Dumbledore was right in saying it was a great responsibility and one that troubled Harry greatly.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Harry broke away from his thoughts a bit startled. Dumbledore was watching him with some concern and Harry realized he must have been silent for several minutes, while Dumbledore waited for a response. Deciding not the further the discussion of his future duel with Voldemort, he asked instead, "Does anyone else know what the prophecy is about? I've been wondering for some time. I mean, like others in the Order."  
  
"It is not my prophecy and fate to tell others of, Harry. Your parents knew, yet I do not think they told even Sirius. The others in the Order do not know....but to be truthful, I believe a great many of them have suspicions that are very close to the message of the prophecy. You've accomplished outstanding feats, none more so amazing than eluding Voldemort several times. These are difficult to conceal and convincing enough to turn many into believers."  
  
Harry desperately wished for this conversation to end and to be out strolling the snow-covered ground with his friends, without a care in the world. Actually, he'd even rather be in Potions with Professor Snape's rancid breath down his neck as he critiqued Harry's schoolwork. But Dumbledore's words echoed through his head, especially the part about his parents not telling Sirius. They had concealed the secret from their friends. Should Harry continue to do the same?  
  
"I...I should really be getting back to class," he said lamely, for lack of a better excuse. "Was there anything else?"  
  
Dumbledore accepted his excuse. "No, continue learning Legilimency with Almari for now. As your abilities develop, I may take over your lessons. Come to me if anything strange happens."  
  
"I will," Harry promised. "And, Professor....does Alma–Professor Almari know of any of this?"  
  
"No, I believed it should be kept between you and I for now. But she is a jinni, as you are well aware, and her kind has ways of knowing things, although without hearing the prophecy she could not divine for what reasons you hold such powers."  
  
Harry nodded. "I understand."  
  
"Learn well from her and you will be greatly benefited." Dumbledore stood to see him out. "And good luck in your game tonight. Indeed the entire school is looking forward to it."   
  
"Thanks," Harry said weakly. He'd almost forgotten about the game during his conversation with the Headmaster. His stomach churned at the thought.  
  
He left Dumbledore's office with a heavy heart and dark thoughts troubling his mind. As he swept past the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to the office, the strap on his schoolbag caught on the gargoyle's unyielding arm, roughly jerking him back. His bag was wrenched from his shoulder and crashed to the ground. Swearing while he crouched to pick up his bag, he noticed a dark stain spreading from the corner of the bag. His hands were covered in the same sticky liquid. _Damn, the inkwell must have smashed,_ he realized. It would be a pain to clean without magic, but he didn't want to get any of the black ink on his wand.  
  
Harry carefully picked up the bag and carried it down the corridor and into the nearest boy's lavatory. He balanced it on one of the porcelain sinks and turned on the tap to wash up; leaving sticky handprints everywhere he touched. As he furiously scrubbed his hands, he felt a curious chill up the back of his spine, a tingling sense that alerted him to the presence of another. He glanced up into the oval mirror that hung over the sink and jumped.  
  
"Hum....is my reflection really that _terrible_?" a mournful voice lamented.  
  
Taking a deep breath to ease his quickened heart rate, Harry shook his head with some embarrassment. "No, you startled me, that's all...........Myrtle, what are you doing in the boy's lavatory?"  
  
Moaning Myrtle's somber, dark eyes stared at him over the tops of her horn-rimmed glasses with a pitiful gaze. "Well, what would you do if no one ever came to your loo. If you were completely alone because......because everyone avoided your loo like the pl-plague!" her cry became high-pitched and Harry could see silver tears misting at the corners of her eyes. "Not even you come! No one comes to see Moaning Myrtle! No one cares!"  
  
_Oh for Merlin's sake,_ Harry thought, feeling his annoyance rise. _Don't let the waterworks start. _"Myrtle, I'm sure that's not true. People probably just avoid your loo because.........er.......the pipes don't work well," he said convincingly. After all it was true, especially considering many of the pipes led down to Slytherin's infamous Chamber of Secrets.  
  
The ghost didn't look convinced and Harry turned back to his cleaning. "Myrtle, y'know, I'm sorry, but this isn't really a great time." He tried to keep his tone polite, but wasn't sure he hid all his irritation. His emotions were already in check after his conversation with Dumbledore.  
  
"Fine," she said scathingly. "No one ever has time for Myrtle; they're too busy being alive! I just won't talk to any of you!" With an indignant cry, she flew up and into the sink, splashing Harry with the water.   
  
He carefully removed his glasses and rolled his eyes when he examined the ink-tinted water spots. He only hoped this day would get better by tonight's game against Slytherin.  
  
By the time he finished cleaning up, lunch had almost started. He left the bathroom with determination in his eyes. It was time to go finding his missing teammate before he skipped another class and jeopardized Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch Cup.  
  
~*~~*~~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
He was going to _kill_ Cesare al-Jalil. That was the only thought driving through Harry's brain; it had even replaced any fears or anxieties he had about the game. Why even worry about catching the Snitch when his best Beater had simply disappeared and was absolutely nowhere to be found only two hours before the game?!  
  
Harry sat with the remainder of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, eating a quick supper after warming up for the game. The _championship_ game, yet no one had been able to find Cesare. Several students had seen him early last night in the Gryffindor common room, yet none of the sixth year boys had thought to check his bed this morning.  
  
Ginny stared up at the enchanted ceiling with concerned eyes. It had been an unusually warm day, a sign of an early spring no doubt, but since late afternoon, dark, foreboding clouds swollen with precipitation had snuck their way into the cheery blue skies. It appeared that a storm was fast approaching and no one knew if the Quidditch game would be caught in it.  
  
"I don't like the sight of those clouds," the youngest Weasley admitted in a worried voice. "I think we're gonna get stuck in whatever nasty weather is coming."  
  
"But _there_ is a sight I'm glad to see," Katie Bell said suddenly and jerked her head in the direction of the doors. "Although he better have a damn good explanation," she muttered under her breath.  
  
Cesare shut the door behind him and cast his eyes over the Great Hall. He noticed where the team was watching him with disapproving glares and headed in their direction.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes as Cesare approached them, a new worry springing to his mind. Dark circles rimmed Che's eyes and his olive skin had a sallow tint to it. He was walking as if it was a difficult effort just to be awake. But that didn't detract from Harry's disapproving tone of voice. "Che, nice of you to show up. Hope it wasn't too much of an effort on your part because we've only been searching for you all day."  
  
Cesare held up a hand to interrupt Harry, but his movement was slow and he still looked very drained. "Before you go _pazzo_, relax. I have already cleared things with Professor McGonagall. There is no problem."  
  
"There's no problem! Che, the team's been frantic for hours! We don't have a reserve Beater and thought we might have to forfeit. To forfeit the Championship! Can you tell us WHY you disappeared and missed warm-ups?" Harry was trying to keep his temper and not explode before the game, but he was finding it increasingly difficult. Che's insolent stare and attitude weren't helping much.  
  
"No," Cesare said simply.  
  
Harry was incredulous. "No?" he echoed. "You mean you won't even tell us why you missed a mandatory practice? That's not how we do things on his team if we want to win. We have to work together." Che's behavior was shocking him.  
  
"Well, like you said, you don't have a reserve Beater so I guess you're stuck with me," Cesare shot back nastily and sat down. He propped his elbows on the table and hung his head in his hands.  
  
Harry's mouth had fallen open and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team was staring at Cesare like he had suddenly sprouted hippogriff wings and started babbling in Troll.  
  
"What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" Harry demanded loudly. A few students at the surrounding table turned around with glee at the suspicion of a fight. Cesare didn't answer or even acknowledge that he had heard Harry.  
  
Harry was having difficulty fighting the urge to hit Cesare and he clenched his fists inside his robe. He felt a hand press down on his shoulder and turned with surprise to see Ron standing next to him with a very concerned face. "Not now," Ron hissed under his breath. To the others, he said, "Okay guys, we still have a House Cup to win, so let's focus on that instead of tearing each other apart right now. Alright? Let's go change into our robes and meet out on the pitch."  
  
The other players looked relieved to have an excuse to escape to thickening tension between Cesare and Harry, and quickly left. Ron pressed down harder on Harry's shoulder, playing the surprising role of a peacemaker. "C'mon, Harry. We have to get ready."  
  
Harry's furious green eyes had not left Cesare's back. "_We_ were ready," he said bitterly and stalked towards the doors, Ron following closely behind.  
  
Cesare felt a sense of guilty relief when Harry and Ron left. He still felt the burning eyes of a few curious students staring at him. He massaged his temples while his conscience scolded him. Harry had asked a good question: what the hell was wrong with him? Why had he said such a terrible thing to Harry? The words weren't even his own, he felt like someone else had used his voice to speak them. _Il mio Dio,_ a sick fear suddenly gripped his stomach. Was he losing his mind?  
  
He closed his eyes as anxiety washed over him. This was torturing him. He had no idea what was happening to him or if it would stop. He was beginning to genuinely fear his new abilities; such power could not come without a grave price. What would his be? Was he to be turned into some sort of monster? Sometimes he thought he could sense a nasty presence in his mind. It was a strange feeling, like someone was listening to his thoughts and influencing his actions. Actions, such as being rude to Harry or destroying the paintings in the Gryffindor common room.  
  
Doubt gnawed on Cesare's mind, forcing him to question his decision to keep what was happening a secret. What if he got to the point where he could no longer control his actions and hurt someone? He would never be able to forgive himself. _This cannot go on, _he realized, _I need help and to get that I must tell someone what is happening._  
  
Yet who could he tell? The only person he trusted with such a secret was Hermione, but he risked losing her if he confessed. After all, Professor Almari had been adamant that wandless magic was a Dark Art and Hermione had always placed her trust in knowledge and academics. The thought that she might think he was a practicing Dark wizard terrified him.  
  
Cesare had never wished for parents more than he did at this very moment. How was it possible to feel so utterly alone amongst so many laughing, excited voices? But a parent was exactly what he needed right now; someone who would not judge him at all, only care about doing whatever they could to help him. He understood now why many of his teachers at Anksenum had felt pity for him, even though he was a constant source of trouble and irritation to them. The complete loss of one's parents was truly a terrible absence, one of the worst imaginable. It was a loss that would haunt him for his entire life, with whispered echoes of what might have been and the sharp ache he felt when he was at his most miserable.  
  
He took a deep breath of air and then slowly released it and tried to focus his thoughts. If not Hermione, who could he tell? He needed someone who was older and could provide some guidance. None of the teachers would do......or would they? The image of Professor Dumbledore's ancient face with his kind blue eyes suddenly appeared in Cesare's mind? He almost immediately cast aside the idea, but something made him consider it. Dumbledore was a good and honest wizard: the entire magical world knew his name as one to be admired and emulated. Dumbledore had an innate sense of justice and goodwill that made him trusted by many wizards and witches much older and wiser than Cesare. Perhaps Che could trust Dumbledore with his secret as well. Did he have a choice not to? Dumbledore was by far the best candidate Che could think of.  
  
His decision made, Cesare considered when to speak with Dumbledore. He wanted to do so as soon as possible before he changed his mind, but tonight was out of the question. He didn't know how Dumbledore was going to respond and needed to be available for tonight's Quidditch championship. He had already been extremely rude to his teammates and the least he could do to make up for his actions was to play his best tonight. The House Cup was at stake and like Harry said, they all had to work together.  
  
He supposed he could wait to see Dumbledore until tomorrow. He would have to go after his classes; he doubted he would be able to skip his lessons two days in a row. He'd been lucky not to get in trouble today. McGonagall had been convinced he was telling the truth about feeling ill; his physical appearance left no doubt about that.  
  
Cesare actually felt some of the weight slid off his shoulders with his plan to speak to the Headmaster. Dumbledore would know what to do and be able to take care of this problem. He pressed his palms down against the table and lifted himself up. Fighting dizziness, he tried not to stagger to visibly when he walked away. He still felt incredibly fatigued and light-headed, sensations that had plagued him since this morning. The loud and rambunctious atmosphere of the Great Hall was aggravating his already pounding head, and he left to change into his game robes.  
  
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~  
  
By the time the teeming mass of eager Hogwart's students had clambered into the tall, groaning stands, the temperature had dropped dramatically and the sky had been darkened by the approaching evening and swift grey-black clouds. Many of the teachers and older students remarked that they could not remember the Quidditch Cup being fought for in such unfavorable weather. A mixture of snow and sleet had begun to lightly fall, muddying the already messy Quidditch pitch.  
  
A sudden fervor swept the crowd and many leapt to their feet, cheering madly as the two teams made their way to the center of the pitch. Most students had opted to don Gryffindors colors of scarlet and gold, but a small number sat stubbornly in knots of Slytherin supporters, their emerald and silver scarves waving in the faces of the Gryffindor supporters. The rivalry between the two Houses was legendary and very heated tonight. Curious incidents of Slytherin and Gryffindor students pulling pranks on one another had been mounting all day even as the harassed staff struggled to contain them.  
  
Madam Hooch was already waiting in the center of the pitch, the Quaffle firmly under her arm, and one foot pressed against the old trunk containing the other balls. She eyed them sternly as the teams approached and shot poisonous glares at each other. Harry and Malfoy, each the captains of their teams, stepped up.   
  
"How's the team, Potter?" Draco said snottily. "I heard you were having some problems earlier." His cold grey eyes glanced over to where Cesare was determinately keeping his gaze towards the ground.  
  
"Just fine," Harry said, gritting his teeth.  
  
Malfoy nodded with a fake expression of concern. "That's good. I understand if you Gryffindors squabble out of your inherent stupidity, but y'know, a _good_ Quidditch team has to have some unity." A nasty smile curved across his pale face.  
  
Harry clenched and unclenched his gloved fists. "Thanks, Malfoy. Maybe next you could give me advice on bribing my way to being Captain by getting Daddy to terrify your teammates into compliancy."  
  
Draco flushed angrily and was about to respond, but Madam Hooch quickly barked at them to be quiet. "Players, mount your brooms!" she yelled and then hissed under her breath, "I want a FAIR game! I'll be watching and don't you forget that!"  
  
Without another word, she heaved the Quaffle up into the air and the players quickly pushed off from the ground. The game had begun. Gryffindor quickly gained possession, as Ginny snatched up the Quaffle and sped towards the distant Slytherin goal posts.  
  
Will Jordan urged her on, quickly abandoning any pretenses of unbiased broadcasting. "Knock 'em dead, Ginny! You're getting close!" he yelled as she neared the posts. Then, "Ooo, watch out!" A collective groan went through most of the crowd as one of the Slytherin beaters sent a Bludger plummeting Ginny's way, causing her to drop the Quaffle.   
  
Harry resisted the temptation to swear and instead pointed his Firebolt up, quickly gaining altitude and momentum. His skilled eyes swept the air over the pitch for any signs of the fluttering wings of the Golden Snitch. There were none.  
  
The sleet had grown more severe, pelting his body with slivers of slushy ice. It was become much more difficult to see. He had no idea why the school had decided to have this match at night. An early crescent moon was struggling to provide some light through the thick storm clouds and huge water-proof torches cast flames from the top of lofty poles, but they did not do much to penetrate the worsening blackness.  
  
Harry watched as a fierce war waged below him between the Chasers of each team. What Malfoy lacked in his abilities as a Seeker, was clearly made up by the three highly-skilled Slytherin Chasers. They were evenly matched with the Gryffindor Chasers, and perhaps–although Harry was loath to admit it–even a bit better. He did not like what he was witnessing.  
  
"And........Slytherin scores again," Will said glumly. "C'mon, Gryffindor, get it together!" He begged as Ron futilely dived for the Quaffle as it sailed through the center Gryffindor goal post. Harry felt his heart sink.  
  
The fierce game continued that way and Harry grew very alarmed when the score reached 30:90, with Slytherin leading by sixty points. It was a bitter game; none of the players could see well and all were violently shivering as the sleet enveloped their bodies like an unwelcome cloak of pure ice. But with an overwhelmed Ron letting goals in, Gryffindor was taking a sound beating.  
  
Harry flew faster, desperately searching for the Snitch. At this rate, the only chance Gryffindor had for victory depended on Harry catching the Snitch before Slytherin scored again. As he raced through the air, Cesare swooped down alongside him.  
  
Cesare avoided Harry's eyes, obviously still uncomfortable from their earlier fight. "I'm going to be tailing you," he said quietly. "I think Malfoy told his Beaters to take you out of the game before you had the opportunity to get the Snitch."  
  
"Damn him," Harry muttered. It would be hard enough to find the Snitch, let alone with Malfoy's goons getting in his way. "Do you think you can handle the both of them?" Harry quickly asked.  
  
"Yes, I...." Cesare abruptly stopped speaking and shook his head slightly as if something was bothering him. Then he glanced towards Harry, but there was an odd shadow behind his amber eyes.  
  
"Cesare, did you hear me?" Harry prompted, still waiting for the Beater to speak.  
  
"I can handle them," he said in a very flat, monotone voice. Before Harry could speak again, Cesare had abruptly flown off.  
  
Feeling somewhat unnerved, Harry glanced behind him and noticed the two Slytherin Beaters unsuccessfully attempting to be discreet as they followed him. Cesare had been right. Harry needed to find the Snitch now. But how could he do so when he was practically flying blind with two Beaters trying to take him out? He sighed and realized he would have to trust Cesare to deal with the Beaters.  
  
Wait.....something had stuck in his mind about those Beaters. He whirled around on his Firebolt and tried not to let his shock show on his face as he noticed the Snitch flitting merrily about in the dark sky just behind the heads of the two Slytherin Beaters.  
  
Harry didn't waste any time. Malfoy was across the pitch, too far to get to it in time. The only problem was the Beaters. "_Cesare_!" he screamed.  
  
The other Gryffindor turned abruptly at his call and his eyes flickered towards the Snitch. He nodded at Harry, quickly understanding what the Seeker was planning to do.  
  
"Now!"  
  
Both Gryffindors rushed towards the two Beaters as fast as their brooms would take them. The Beaters scattered as the half-crazed Gryffindor players charged them with looks of pure madness on their faces. Harry quickly closed in on the swift Snitch, stretching his arm out so he could grab it as he sped by.  
  
Just as his finger grazed the struggling wings of the Snitch, sudden movement in front of him involuntarily jerked his attention from victory. His eyes narrowed in puzzlement. Not twenty meters away, a small break in the clouds allowed the weak moon to illuminate a solitary figure on broomstick. Harry saw a Beater's club raised and then swiftly brought down. As a Bludger came pelting directly towards him, Harry recognized the figure as Cesare, a malicious look lighting up his face.  
  
Harry reflexively rolled just in time to avoid being beheaded by the Bludger. He spun back up, completely dazed. The action had happened so fast that he couldn't be sure what he had seen. He cast his eyes wildly around. Both the Bludger and Cesare had vanished, but the Snitch had not. With a disoriented lurch, Harry snatched up the Snitch.  
  
As he slowly sunk to the ground, he heard the crowds explode in cheers, drowning out the overenthusiastic reporting of Will Jordan. Harry's teammates raced towards him, madly screaming and hugging each other. Ginny and Katie were singing, "We won, we won, we won!" Ron beamed, while Asad Ademi, the Nigerian Chaser waved his oddly-shaped broom in the air and Dean did some sort of complicated-looking victory dance.  
  
The rest of the Gryffindor House flooded onto the muddy pitch, yelling and clapping each other on the back. No one cared to notice as the scowling Slytherins quickly made their way off the field. McGonagall was crying as she passed the huge trophy cup to the players. Harry pumped one fist into the air while the other grasped the Cup. All his thoughts about what had just happened with Cesare vanished as elation swept over him. They had done it again! Gryffindor was still the champion.  
  
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~  
  
The Gryffindors continued their raucous celebrations when they all crowded into the Common Room. A warm fire melted the chill from their icy clothes and an even better surprise waited in three large boxes on the floor. There was a note addressed to Harry on the center one.  
  
Harry read out loud:  
  
_Hey gang! Sorry we can't be there to celebrate, but we knew you'd beat the slime out of those Slytherin snakes! Business is booming and we thought we'd offer this stuff to you to liven up the party a bit. Cheers!  
The Association for the Benediction of Tricksters  
Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_  
  
The boxes were torn open to reveal cases of bottled butterbeer and stacks of sweets. The last box contained new jokes and tricks–some dangerous enough to alarm the most laid-back professor. A couple of third year students started digging into the boxes as the treats were passed around.  
  
Harry was looking at the curious way Fred and George had signed their note. "Hey, Ron," he called the redhead over.  
  
"What's the Association for the Benediction of Tricksters?" Harry asked and pointed at the bottom of the note.   
  
"Mpff?" Ron made as noise as his mouth was full of pumpkin pasty. He bent to look at the note and ended up spraying pumpkin pasty on it as he attempted to speak again. After he swallowed, he shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"Beats me, probably something they made up to be funny."  
  
Harry was about to question him further, but Ron's eyes strayed to where a group of younger students was eagerly chugging butterbeer from a quickly-emptying barrel.   
  
"Gotta go over there. Y'know as a prefect, I gotta make sure they.....er..... don't drink all that alone."  
  
Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes and as he was about to join the group of celebrating sixth years, a sleepy voice from behind him made him stop and turn around.  
  
"It's a code-name for a secret group that gives the Order magical objects." Luna Lovegood spoke to him with a dreamy expression in her wide, pale eyes.  
  
"Huh? Oh, hi, Luna, haven't spoken to you in awhile," Harry said awkwardly. Her mention of the Order had startled him.  
  
She appeared not to notice his greeting. "It's all true. They even made a quill that makes its user invisible to enemies when they hold it."  
  
"Er, right....." Harry said, for lack of any other response. "Listen, Luna, it's been really nice talking to you, but......."  
  
"And that's nothing compared to their gargoyles who can talk and breath fire."  
  
Something struck Harry besides her bizarre statement about talking gargoyles. "Wait....Luna....how did you get into the _Gryffindor_ common room? I thought students from other houses weren't really supposed to be....."  
  
She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "It's really all the same, Harry," she said with a vague smile and then walked away.  
  
Harry gave her retreating back an incredulous stare. Luna just got odder and odder.  
  
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~~  
  
Meanwhile, Cesare had left the pitch as quickly as possible after the game. He raced up to the Gryffindor tower to the room he shared with the other sixth year boys, hoping the others would be too preoccupied with the celebrations to leave the common room.  
  
His mind screamed at him as he anxiously paced. What the hell had happened during the game? He'd completely lost control and without thinking of it had hit that Bludger at Harry. He sank to the floor, holding his head in his hands. It felt like he was being wrenched apart at the seams. Che had been filled with such uncharacteristic malice and loathing; part of him had really desired to see Harry knocked off his broom and even.........it sickened Che to admit it.......even killed.  
  
Dear Merlin, there was really something wrong with him. He was a terrible threat to his friends like this. He made up his mind to stay as far away as possible from the others until he spoke to Dumbledore. And there could be no waiting until after his lessons; he had to see Dumbledore first thing in the morning.  
  
Cesare shivered, whether from his icy robes or sick fear he did not know. He was wide-awake and felt trapped in this tower. Deciding he'd rather risk getting caught pacing the quiet, empty halls of the castle after curfew, than wait here until the others came up, he changed into dry clothing and a warm brown robe, stuffed his wand in his pocket, and left the room.   
  
He hoped to quietly and swiftly exit through the Gryffindor common room without being noticed, but his hopes were to no avail. As soon as he entered the room, Hermione looked up from where she had been chatting with Neville and excused herself. She jumped up and headed towards Cesare.  
  
"Che! Where have you been all day? I was so worried that there was something wrong with you, and when I didn't see you after the game......."  
  
"I'm fine," he lied. His guilt tore at him when he saw her worried brown eyes. She hugged him and then silently regarded him.  
  
"Cesare, what's going on with you?" she asked softly.  
  
Her fingers held his forearms gently, but for some odd reason her gentle touch felt very different to him and he found himself wishing she were not so close.  
  
"Herm, I'm sorry, I just really need to get some air. I'm not feeling very well; I might stop by Madam Pomfrey's." He took a small step back towards the portrait hole.  
  
None of the concern left her face and she actually seemed a bit hurt. "You're lying to me, Cesare," she said, trying to keep her voice as unemotional as possible.  
  
The betrayed look on her face cut through him like a sharp knife. "I–I can't talk about this right now, please just trust me on it," he pleaded.  
  
"You just lied and then ask me to trust you? Fine, Che, do whatever you want. You always do." She turned away and he could have sworn a tear glistened at the corner of her left eye.  
  
"Hermione....please......" He reached out to take her arm, but as his fingers brushed her wrist, a sudden feeling of complete disgust flooded his entire body and he jerked his hand away like he'd touched boiling water. In a dark corner of his mind, something primal and horrific boiled over. _'MUDBLOOD!' _his mind screamed in a cold voice overflowing with more malevolence and hate than he had ever thought he was capable of having.  
  
He nearly stumbled back he was so shocked. The feeling faded, and his mind screamed something else at him, but it was to get out as quickly as possible. The thought of harming Hermione as he had wanted to harm Harry terrified him.  
  
"I have to leave," he stammered. Hermione just looked confused and angry, and he forced himself to tear his eyes away from her face and leave.  
  
When he got outside of the portrait hole, he swung back the enormous picture of the Fat Lady, and then collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily. His encounter with Hermione had just convinced him that his problems were serious enough to wake the Headmaster tonight and speak with him immediately, instead of waiting any longer.   
  
He took a deep breath and set out across the school, vaguely remembering where Dumbledore's office was. Cesare was so lost in his thoughts, that he barely noticed the odd, open feeling he had in the back of his mind. It was a strange feeling, almost like he was being overcome by sleep.  
  
His feet took him in what he assumed to be the direction of the office. As he mulled over what exactly he was going to tell Dumbledore, a sudden realization hit him so hard he stopped dead in his tracks. He almost couldn't believe this epiphany had taken so long!  
  
When had he started feeling strangely? After Christmas. When had his odd new powers shown up? After Christmas. When had those murderous instruction started haunting his dream? After Christmas. More specifically, after he had returned from Italy.  
  
His mind felt clearer than it had in months, and his discovery delighted him. His uncle must have done something to him, who knew what, but at least he had something more definitive he could tell Dumbledore. And Dumbledore would be able to figure out what was wrong and help him. He would finally be free of this curse that had plagued him for almost two months....  
  
Then as quickly as his realization came, the odd feeling in the back of his mind crashed down upon him like being hit with his Beater's club. Black spots clouded his vision, and when they faded, he was left feeling perfectly calm and at peace. His mind forgot his sudden realization as a dense fog enveloped his thoughts. But this didn't worry Cesare; rather he felt blissfully content and somewhat sleepy, as if he'd been stung by a Billywig.  
  
He....he was supposed to go somewhere, right? He felt very confused and followed a direction he felt was correct. This must be the way to Dumbledore's office, he thought merrily.  
  
But after descending another few floors, and walking down a dark hallway, the small arched doorway he stopped in front of was not Dumbledore's office. He pushed open the wooden door and stepped in. His shoes slapped against a thin sheen of water that coated the marble floor, but he wasn't in any state to notice.  
  
The clouds had cleared from the black midnight sky, and the delicate slice of silver moon was visible from a small window high upon one wall. It allowed a wide band of moonlight to illuminate the dusty air and stark white sinks.  
  
He was in a bathroom. This boggled even his clouded mind. Dumbledore's office wasn't in bathroom, so why was he? But something compelled him farther into the room towards the narrow row of sinks. Cesare thought he heard a small splash behind him, but he completely ignored it.  
  
His hands grasped the cold white marble of the sides of one of the sinks. He studied it carefully, like one would study a renowned piece of art. He noticed something odd about the spout. Someone had carved a crude rendition of a snake into the copper tap. He reached out and brushed it with his fingertips. An icy shiver raced up his spine.  
  
The etched lines of the snake seemed to be staring at him as if it were guarding a sacred treasure. His addled mind thought this amusing and he whispered, "Open up." But his words came out differently, in a sort of slithering hiss.  
  
The sink suddenly sunk as a dark gaping hole swallowed it. The sides of the hole—the pipe rather—were slick with shiny grime. His fingers had involuntarily tightened around the sink edges, and the quick movement of the sink pulled him down as well. The rubber soles of his sneakers slipped back on the wet floor and he was pitched headfirst into the pipe.  
  
The pipe was like a long, twisted slide; he quickly gained speed but kept thudding into the many curves. It suddenly opened up and he shot out like a cannon ball. Cesare smashed into the grimy stone wall and violently struck his head against the hard, cold floor. In the very dim light, he was vaguely aware of the blurry lines of bones, rocks, and other rubble, but the darkness quickly claimed his throbbing head. He blacked out and saw no more. He couldn't feel the icy floor his face pressed into, smell the dank, earthy odor of the tunnel, nor hear the grinding noises in the pipes above as the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets sealed itself once again, enclosing his still body in its cavernous depths.  
  
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~  
  
-_~ Author's Note ~_-  
I'm very sorry this update took so long. I was very busy, and simply unable to find time to write. I thank my unbelievably patient reviewers and hope you will accept my apology for making you wait almost three months for a new chapter. I edited this rather quickly, so I hope there are no mistakes.  
  
Do not worry, I have no intention of giving up my story. I estimate it is about two-thirds completed. I will start on my next chapter as quickly as possible. I recommend you check out HarryPotterFanFiction.com because that is where I primarily post my story and the next chapter often is posted there first. Also, I have a Yahoo list for readers who wish to be informed as too when my story is updated. Just e-mail me at desert_jinn@yahoo.com if you wish to be added.  



End file.
